EVERYMAN 


BY  MONTROSE  J.   MOSES 

CHILDREN'S  BOOKS  AND  READING 
HENRIK.   IBSEN     THE  MAN  AND  HIS    PLAYS 
FAMOUS  ACTOR  FAMILIES  IN  AMERICA 
LITERATURE  OF  THE   SOUTH     In  preparation 

EDITED  BY  MR.   MOSES 

EVERYMAN     A  Morality  Play 


EVERYMAN. 


EVERYMAN 

A  Morality 
Play 

Edited  with  an  introduction 
notes    and   bibliography    by 

MONTROSE    J.  MOSES 

With  illustrations 


NEW  YORK 
MITCHELL    KENNERLEY 


Copyright  iqo8  by 
Mitchell   Kennerley 


Mjty.i 

i  f.  r  i  /  r 


To  My  Mother 


2227549 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

EVERYMAN    ......    Frontispiece 

Character  Group    ......        83 

EVERYMAN.       Commaunded    I    Am    to    Go    a 

Journaye       ......        95 

KNOWLEGE.      Everyman,  I  Wyll  Go  with  The 

and  Be  Thy  Gyde  .          .          .          .109 

CONFESSYON.     Here    Shall   You    Receyve    That 

Scourge  of  Me       .          .          .          .          .ill 

EVERYMAN.     O  Eternal  God,  O  Hevenly  Fygure     112 

EVERYMAN.     I  Go  before,  There  I  Wolde  Be : 

God  Be  Our  Gyde          .          .          .          .122 

GOOD    DEDES.     Nay,   Everyman,   I  Wyll  Byde 

with  The  126 


THE    PREDECESSORS    OF    EVERYMAN 

A  COMPREHENSIVE   appreciation   of   Every- 
man involves  some  knowledge  of  the  dramatic 
development  of  which  it  is  a  part.  The  Moral- 
ity was  no  sudden  form  of  play,  sprung  into  exist- 
ence; it  was  based  upon  an  historic  tradition  of  rare 
interest,    involving    centuries    of    social    progress. 
Changes  in  civilization,  in  thought,  in  form,  are  not 
sharply  defined,  but  grade,  one  into  the 
THE        other,  and  follow  evolutionary  laws.     The 
CHURCH,     student  of  medieval  literature,  of  the  lit- 
erature  of  any   epoch,   will   find   reasons 
for  the  existence  of  a  particular  genre  only  in  so 
far  as  he  understands  the  social  forces  that  called  it 
forth. 

In  the  early  history  of  the  drama  this  fact  is  strik- 
ingly illustrated,  since  the  drama  became  an  accessory 
of  the  Church,  to  satisfy  a  social  want.  Scholars  are 
now  well  agreed  that  the  sources  of  the  modern 
drama  are  not  to  be  found  in  the  theatres  of  Greece 
and  of  Rome.  Mention  is  made  of  a  Greek  play,  deal- 
ing with  the  Passion  of  Christ,  which  was  probably 
written  in  the  IVth  century  by  St.  Gregory  Ndzian- 
zen,  who  died  A.  D.  390;  one  Latin  comedy,  con- 
structed along  the  lines  of  Plautus;  and  six  Latin 
comedies  by  Hroswitha,  a  nun  of  the  Gandersheim 
convent,  Saxony.  But  save  for  the  fact  that  Greg- 


2  INTRODUCTION 

ory  drew  his  form  from  Euripides,  and  Hroswitha 
from  Terence,  there  is  little  in  spirit  or  in  purpose  to 
show  any  deeper  influence  from  the  classic  drama. 
These  plays  were  more  on  the  order  of  the  later 
Scholar  pieces  which  rarely  reached  any  other  atmos- 
phere than  that  of  the  monastery.  It  is  to  the 
Church  that  the  modern  drama  owes  its  life,  and 
in  the  Church  that  dramatic  beginnings  were  nur- 
tured. 

Christianity,  from  the  first,  had  some  vital  and  con- 
flicting forces  with  which  to  contend.  On  the  one 
hand,  there  were  paganism  and  Judaism,  with  their 
countless  forms  and  customs ;  and  on  the  other  hand, 
a  people,  unthinking  and  ignorant,  who  were  at- 
tracted toward  the  licentious  amusements  encour- 
aged by  paganism.  Against  this  opposing  tide,  the 
Christian  Church  set  an  art  which  would  help  allay 
the  restless  ignorance  of  her  converts.  The  congre- 
gations that  listened  to  the  Latin  sermon  did  not  un- 
derstand Latin;  the  Bible  was  not  an  open  book  to 
them,  since  they  could  not  read ;  it  was  natural  there- 
fore that  form  alone  became  symbolical  of  all  that 
the  priest  was  saying  in  a  strange  tongue. 

To  this  new  form  the  character  of  the  service  lent 
itself  readily.  In  the  IVth  and  Vth  centuries,  "  the 
public  worship  of  God  assumed,  if  we  may  so  speak, 
a  dramatic,  theatrical  character  which  made  it  at- 
tractive and  imposing  to  the  mass  of  the  people,  who 
were  as  yet  incapable  of  worshipping  God  in  spirit 
and  in  truth."  There  was  one  underlying  motif 
throughout  the  service,  a  deep  religious  strain  which 
became  more  profound  as  each  step  in  the  life  of 


INTRODUCTION  3 

Christ  was  magnified  through  the  desire  to  live  again 
the  life  of  the  Crucified.  Deeper  and  deeper  this 
desire  became,  until  the  Divine  Presence  rose  before 
His  people  in  the  transubstantiation  of  the  bread  and 
wine.  An  examination  of  the  Mass  will  show  this 
steady  increase  in  intensity  and  in  dramatic  content. 
The  questions  of  the  priest  and  the  responses  of  the 
congregation  made  definite  divisions,  not  unlike  char- 
acter divisions.  The  service  was  necessarily  dramatic 
since  the  Life  was  fraught  with  passion. 

The  term  dramatic,  applied  to  religious  ceremony, 
is  only  a  term  after  all,  inclusive  in  its  meaning,  and 
used  to  impress  a  material  fact.  Man,  himself  made 
after  the  image  of  God,  is  to  his  fellow  men  flesh 
alone,  through  whose  outward  action  the  spirit  be- 
comes manifest.  The  religious  impulse,  awakened  by 
the  historic  fact  of  the  life  of  Christ,  found  expres- 
sion through  action,  through  physical,  human  means. 

To  the  people,  the  early  Church  was  the  home  of 
intellectual  and  moral  training.  It  was  well  for 
them  to  hear  the  Biblical  stories ;  it  was  better  for 
them,  the  clergy  argued,  to  see  the  stories  repre- 
sented. During  the  service,  the  attitudes  assumed 
by  the  priests  soon  resulted  in  traditional  poses  sim- 
ilar to  those  portrayed  in  figures  on  the  walls  of 
the  church,  and  by  such  tableau  effects,  the  soil  for 
the  drama  was  prepared.  We  read  in  the  Ordinary 
of  the  Mass :  "  Standing  at  the  foot  of  the  Altar, 
and  having  bowed  to  the  Cross  or  the  Altar,  the 
Priest  signs  himself  with  the  sign  of  the  Cross  from 
the  forehead  to  the  breast,  and  says  in  a  distinct 
voice  .  .  ,J?  Again  the  instructions  are :  "  First 


4  INTRODUCTION 

extending,  then  joining  his  hands,  the  Priest 
says  .  .  ."  and  so  on  throughout  the  service. 

As  the  Church  grew  in  power,  her  magnificence  of 
outward  pomp  soon  equalled  that  of  the  State.  The 
temporal  and  spiritual  dignitaries  vied,  one  with  the 
other,  for  the  ascendency.  The  vestments  and  orna- 
ments of  the  Church  assumed  a  symbolism  in  har- 
mony with  the  symbolism  of  the  service.  The  color 
generally  used  was  white  to  typify  salvation.  Long 
coats  richly  embroidered,  royal  purple  vestments  to 
signify  a  majesty  above  the  temporal  power — every- 
thing tended  to  supplement  some  part  of  the  service 
and  to  vivify  the  impression  made  upon  the  people. 

It  was  the  object  of  the  early  Christian  Church  to 
present  to  the  congregation  pictures  which  would 
illustrate  the  story  of  Christ's  Life  and  Resurrection 
in  such  a  way  as  to  be  understood  by  the  people. 
They  were  simple  folk,  these  converts  of  the  early 
centuries ;  their  great  pleasure  was  in  spectacles  where 
action  alone  revealed  the  content.  A  simple  nature 
is  thus  easily  impressed,  and  display  produces  its 
usual  amount  of  awe.  Music,  costume,  action,  three 
dramatic  essentials,  were  adopted  by  the  Church,  and 
the  service  became  more  ornate,  while  its  spirit  re- 
mained unchanged.  The  people  could  not,  as  yet, 
distinguish  between  the  outward  and  the  inward  in- 
terpretations. So  the  drama  and  religion  co-oper- 
ated to  produce  spiritual  results.  The  one  was  a 
mere  element  of  the  other,  until  the  two  spirits — dra- 
matic and  religious — began  to  struggle  for  ascend- 
ency and  finally  separated.  The  Church  service 
sought  expression  through  dramatic  means.  It  was 


INTRODUCTION  5 

not  drama  until  the  presence  of  extraneous  dialogue 
made  it  so.  Then  was  it  that  the  strictly  liturgical 
drama  was  evolved  from  and  formed  part  of  the 
Church  service. 

Some  writers  have  given  as  a  reason  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  Easter  before  Christmas  that  the  former 
had  its  counterpart  in  the  Jewish  Passover,  while 
Christmas  had  no  corresponding  fes- 
EASTER  AND  tival  in  the  calendar  of  the  Old  Tes- 
CHRISTMAS  tament  faith.  But  certain  it  is  that 

PLAYS.  the  religious  impulse  of  the  early 
Church  clung  at  first  to  what  in  his- 
toric time  was  nearest — the  Crucifixion  and  the  events 
attendant  upon  it.  The  first  dramatic  indications, 
therefore,  are  Easter  plays,  based  upon  what  are 
commonly  called  tropes.  These  are  defined  by  Leon 
Gautier  (Hist.  Poes.  Liturg.  au  Moyen  Age:  Les 
Tropes)  as  new  and  unauthorized  passages  intercal- 
ated among  the  words  of  the  authentic  and  official 
text,  expanding  the  original  theme,  and  often  ex- 
ceeding the  original  text  in  length.1  Probably  the 
earliest  trope  extant  was  done  in  the  Xth  century  by 
Tutilon,  a  monk  of  the  Swiss  monastery  of  St.  Gall.* 

Space  will  not  permit  of  more  than  a  cursory  ex- 
amination of  the  Easter  and  Christmas  plays. 
Tendencies  must  be  looked  at  broadly,  and  from  the 
mass  of  material  those  salient  points  must  be  con- 
sidered that  will  best  illustrate  the  development  lead- 
ing to  Everyman. 

The  early  Easter  plays  dealt  with  the  incidents 

*Gayley,  Forefathers,  p.  IB;  Chambers,  II.,  15;  Frere,  W. 
H.,  The  Winchester  Troper. 


6  INTRODUCTION 

centering  about  the  Resurrection.  The  choir  which, 
in  the  Church  service,  had  split  in  twain  for  question 
and  response,  now  further  separated.  Three  person- 
ages, representing  the  Marys,  proceed  to  the  altar,  as 
the  symbolic  grave  of  Christ,  where  they  are  met  by 
two  figures  singing :  "  Whom  seek  ye  in  the  sepul- 
chre, O  Christians  "  (Quern  quceritis  in  sepulchro,  O 
christicolce)  ?  The  Marys  answer :  "  Jesus  of  Na- 
zareth, the  crucified,  O  dwellers  in  heaven  "  (Jesum 
Nazarenum  crucifixum,  O  ccdicolai)  !  And  the  reply 
follows :  "  He  is  not  here ;  He  is  risen,  as  He  has 
prophesied ;  go,  proclaim  that  He  has  risen  from  the 
sepulchre  "  (Non  est  hie,  surrexit  sicut  prosdixerat; 
ite,  nuntiate  quia  surrexit  de  sepulchro). 

This  primitive  dialogue  followed  directly  the  third 
response  given  with  the  three  lessons  of  the  day. 
The  special  significance  was  that  the  clergy  intro- 
duced extraneous  material  into  the  liturgy,  accom- 
panied by  limited  but  definite  action.  This  might 
increase  by  means  of  accretion  and  of  incorporation 
with  other  dialogues,  but  in  the  germ  it  was  the  be- 
ginning of  the  drama  represented. 

A  manuscript  of  the  Xth  century,  coming  from 
England,  contains  the  following  description :  "  While 
the  third  lesson  is  being  recited,"  it  reads,  "  four 
brethren  [of  the  monastery]  shall  costume  them- 
selves, and  one  of  these,  who  is  to  act  a  different 
part  from  the  rest,  shall  enter,  clothed  in  a  long, 
white  garment  [alb],  and,  going  to  a  position  at  the 
side  of  the  tomb  [altar],  shall  sit  there  quietly,  hold- 
ing a  palm-branch  in  his  hand.  And  when  the  third 
response  has  been  completed,  the  other  three  shall 


INTRODUCTION  7 

come  up,  dressed  in  long,  flowing  garments  [copes], 
and  bearing  illuminated  censers  in  their  hands  [thur- 
ibles] ;  and  they  shall  go  to  the  tomb  slowly,  as  if 
looking  for  something.  And  now,  when  he  who  is 
sitting  at  the  tomb  observes  these  approach  ...  he 
shall  begin  by  singing  softly,  '  Whom  geek  yeT  * 

Finding  the  linens  from  Christ's  body,  "  they  shall 
put  down  their  censers,  take  up  the  linens  and  spread 
them  out  before  the  clergy,  as  if  they  wished  to  show 
that  the  Lord  had  risen,  and  was  no  longer  wrapped 
in  them.  Having  sung  the  antiphony,  *  the  Lord  is 
risen  from  the  tomb/  they  shall  place  the  linens  upon 
the  altar." 

This  simple  dialogue  and  action  ultimately  resulted 
in  the  numerous  Passion  plays  of  a  later  date;  the 
writers  seem  to  have  been  bound  to  the  progress  of 
the  Biblical  text,  and  though  certain  liberties  were 
taken  with  the  characters  of  Pilate,  Herod,  and  the 
soldiers,  the  plays  show,  above  all,  the  hand  of  the 
established  ecclesiastic,  rather  than  that  of  the  em- 
bryo artist. 

Hence  the  Christmas  plays  illustrate  better  than 
the  Easter  plays  the  development  of  the  dramatic 
impulse,  because  they  allowed  the  ecclesiastic  a  freer 
and  more  diversified  treatment.  In  them  are  found 
for  the  first  time  an  attempt  at  some  plot  and  the 
introduction  of  something  more  human  than  the 
Resurrection  scene  would  permit.  The  limitations  of 
the  Easter  commemoration  were  due  to  the  fact  that 
its  subject-matter  touched  the  most  sacred  point  in 
the  Christian  worship;  for  this  reason,  and  also  be- 
cause the  mystery  of  the  Resurrection  was  impossible 


8  INTRODUCTION 

to  represent,  there  was  not  enough  scope  for  dra- 
matic action. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  Christmas  plays  were 
based  on  tropes  similar  in  form  to  those  of  the 
Easter  plays.  The  question  comes :  "  Tell  us,  0 
shepherds,  whom  seek  you  in  the  manger?  "  with  the 
answer : "  The  Saviour,  who  is  Christ  the  Lord,  a  child 
wrapped  in  swaddling-clothes,  according  to  the  word 
of  the  angel."  Then  follows  another  speech,  telling 
of  the  birth  and  recalling  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah. 

Reaching  back  into  the  Old  Testament,  and  look- 
ing upon  all  that  occurred  before  the  birth  of  Christ 
as  a  preparation  for  His  coming,  the  material  for  the 
Christmas  plays  becomes  centred  about  five  main 
topics — the  Magi,  the  Shepherds,  Herod,  Rachel, 
and  the  Massacre  of  the  Innocents.  These  were  de- 
picted in  many  forms,  first  as  single  actions  or 
dramas,  and  then  they  became  incorporated  bodily 
with  other  plays.  A  piece,  The  Office  of  the  Star, 
given  at  Rouen,  on  the  Epiphany,  bears  traces  of  two 
plays,  The  Office  of  the  Magi  (Limoges,  MS.  XlVth 
c.)  and  The  Office  of  the  Shepherds  (Rouen,  MS. 
XlVth  c.),  and  shows  the  beginning  of  that  cyclic  de- 
velopment which  is  so  well  exemplified  in  the  Pro- 
phetes  du  Christ.  The  part  these  plays  occupied  in 
the  Church  service  is  in  many  cases  indicated  at  the 
beginnings  of  the  manuscripts.  The  directions  for  one 
such  piece  state  that  on  the  sacred  night  of  the  birth 
of  the  Lord,  after  the  Te  Deum  is  sung,  the  play  of 
The  Shepherds  shall  begin,  followed  by  the  Mass ;  the 
directions  for  another  that  on  the  Epiphany,  after  the 
third  response,  three  priests  of  high  rank,  represent- 


INTRODUCTION  9 

ing  the  Magi,  shall  come  to  the  altar,  and  that  after 
the  play  has  ended  the  service  shall  begin. 

The  manner  in  which  these  plays  were  presented 
depended  at  first  on  what  accessories  the  Church  had 
at  hand.  The  star  of  Bethlehem  was  attached  to  a 
cord ;  the  manger  was  built  near  the  altar ;  and  a 
statue  represented  the  Christ.  The  angel  who  an- 
nounced the  birth  was  a  child,  suspended  on  a  high 
platform.  The  costliness  of  their  gowns  and  gold 
ornaments  distinguished  the  Magi  from  the  Shep- 
herds. 

The  plays  dealing  with  Herod  made  the  material 
freer  to  handle,  since  the  dramatist  here  felt  himself 
dealing  with  an  historical  character  rather  than  a 
religious  figure.  The  Lament  of  Rachel  likewise  was 
treated  purely  from  the  human  standpoint.  In  these 
plays  there  is  evident  a  nearer  approach  to  dramatic 
ideals,  and  a  farther  removal  from  the  liturgical  re- 
quirements. What  is  most  striking  to  the  student 
is  the  utter  lack  of  any  new  view-point  in  the  work- 
ing over  of  old  material  by  these  writers.  It  never 
seemed  necessary  to  them  to  give  proportion  to  the 
progress  of  the  plot;  to  exert  much  originality. 
What  was  done  was  done,  and  would  serve  the  pur- 
pose of  another  writer,  provided  a  continuous  picture 
was  shown,  or  an  uninterrupted  story  told. 

First  came  The  Shepherds,  and  then  The  Adoration 
of  the  Magi.  These  were  united  by  some  new  hand, 
with  a  visible  line  of  joining,  and  placed  further 
in  a  Herod  drama,  which  in  its  turn  led  the  way  to 
The  Massacre  of  the  Innocents.  A  manuscript  of 
the  Xlth  century,  entitled  Ordo  Rachaelis,  indicates 


10  INTRODUCTION 

that  the  unknown  author  reached  back  to  the  Shep- 
herds, the  Magi,  and  the  Herod  dramas  for  material, 
and,  in  addition,  introduced  a  scene,  new  to  the  litur- 
gical drama,  entitled  The  Flight  of  the  Holy  Family. 

No  account  of  these  plays  would  be  complete  with- 
out mention  of  the  Prophetes  du  Christ  (Limoges, 
MS.  Xlth  c.).  It  was  the  purpose  of  the  early 
clergy,  notably  in  the  case  of  St.  Augustine,  to  show 
that  the  Old  Testament  was  but  a  preparation  for  the 
New.  The  play  is  what  its  literal  name  implies ; 
among  the  prophets,  Israel,  Moses,  Isaiah,  Jeremiah, 
Daniel,  David,  Simeon,  Elizabeth,  John  the  Baptist, 
Virgil,  and  Aaron,  each  in  turn,  and  in  answer  to 
doctrinal  questions  propounded,  presumably  by  Au- 
gustine, tells  of  Christ's  coming.  The  dialogue 
takes  place  in  the  middle  of  the  nave  of  the  church. 
In  one  or  two  cases  the  prophets  argue  with  Jews  who 
dispute  with  them.  The  play  is  based  upon  a  sermon 
of  St.  Augustine,  and  many  smaller  dramas  were  like- 
wise founded  upon  the  same  subject.  A  Rouen  manu- 
script— more  developed  than  the  Limoges  manu- 
script— bears  the  title,  Procession  de  VAne,  and 
shows  a  marked  advance  over  any  others  in  the  intro- 
duction of  the  popular  characters  of  Nebuchadnezzar, 
and  Balaam  and  his  ass. 

The  actors  who  presented  these  plays  were  clerics. 
One  by  one,  the  prophets,  coming  from  the  cloister, 
advanced,  guided  by  two  clerks  of  the  second  order. 
In  the  nave  was  placed  the  throne  of  Nebuchadnezzar, 
and  near  it  a  furnace,  not  far  from  which  three  young 
Jews  were  seated.  These  were  to  await  their  turn  to 
be  thrown  into  the  flames  for  their  obstinancy  in  not 
believing  in  Nebuchadnezzar's  idols.  When  his  time 


INTRODUCTION  11 

came,  Balaam  rode  forth,  astride  an  ass,  which 
stopped  and  refused  to  move,  despite  blows  and  kicks ; 
we  hear  of  complaints  of  severe  treatment  from  the 
man  hidden  in  the  animal's  skin.  Among  the  prophets, 
Moses  held  the  law  and  a  rod  in  his  hand;  he  wore 
an  alb  and  a  cope,  and  had  horns  and  a  long  beard. 
Isaiah,  bearded,  was  clad  in  an  alb,  and  a  red  stole 
surrounded  his  forehead;  Aaron  wore  his  episcopal 
ornaments,  held  a  flower  in  his  hand,  and  was  mitred 
and  bearded;  Jeremiah  had  his  sacerdotal  vestments 
and  held  a  parchment  roll;  John  the  Baptist's  feet 
were  bare,  and  in  his  hands  was  the  text  of  the  Evan- 
gel. The  costumes  of  the  others  were  not  much  more 
diversified.  Each  prophet,  when  he  had  finished, 
stepped  behind  Nebuchadnezzar's  furnace  to  await 
the  processional  which  was  finally  to  take  them  all  to 
the  choir. 

The  growth  of  plays  by  accretion,  by  assimilation, 
constituted  the  cyclic  development.  The  unknown 
dramatist  did  not  use  particular  plays  as  models,  but 
the  plays  themselves  were  taken,  as  we  have  seen,  and 
worked  into  the  plot  and  progress  of  the  story.  In 
the  beginning,  the  Christmas  dramas  were  simply 
types,  similar  almost  to  the  answer  and  response  of 
the  Church  service.  Presented  on  days  of  great  ec- 
clesiastical importance,  these  pieces  were  subjected  to 
an  atmosphere  of  growing  magnificence.  But  as  the 
plays  increased,  textually,  and  had  introduced  into 
them  a  greater  number  of  characters,  necessity 
pushed  the  purely  religious  elements  away  from  the 
dramatic,  and  the  latter  being  most  popular,  became 
dominant.  As  play  after  play  was  amalgamated, 
new  points  were  brought  in  and  accentuated,  showing 


12  INTRODUCTION 

a  change  of  hand  and  a  constructive  mind  behind  the 
completed  work.  Through  a  period,  from  900  to 
1200  A.D.,  this  evolution  continued. 

Wilhelm  Creizenach  (Geschichte  des  Neueren 
Dramas')  summarizes  the  general  character  of  the  de- 
velopment just  traced.  So  clear  and  suggestive  are 
his  remarks  that  in  part  they  are  here  translated : 

"  We  have  seen  that  in  spite  of  the  varying  char- 
acteristics of  these  festivals,  and  of  the  dramas 
that  developed  from  them,  many  analogies  between 
them  are  apparent.  Above  all  is  evident  the  effort 
to  enlarge  the  texts  more  and  more,  at  first  merely 
by  means  of  adding,  mosaic  fashion,  pieces  from 
the  Gospels  or  from  Church  songs,  but  afterward 
by  including  pieces,  which  in  prose  or  verse  were 
especially  composed  for  the  purpose.  In  the  verse 
is  illustrated  the  gradual  progress  of  these  cen- 
turies in  the  art  of  Latin  rime,  and  though  for 
some  time,  especially  in  plays  of  the  Three  Kings, 
hexameter  was  used  in  addition  to  rime,  yet  the 
ascendency  was  held  by  rhythmic  poetry,  which 
was  steadily  growing  in  beauty  and  elaborateness. 
Above  all,  a  solemn  and  earnest  tone  is  at  the  basis 
of  the  dramas;  though,  on  the  other  hand,  there 
are  already  apparent  passages  intended  to  touch 
the  emotions,  as  in  the  parts  of  Mary  Magdalen, 
of  Herod,  and  of  the  foolish  Virgins. 

"  The  manner  of  representation  was  at  first  the 
simplest  imaginable.  There  was  no  attempt  to  go 
further  than  to  costume  the  personages  of  the  ac- 
tion according  to  their  parts,  by  aid  of  the  various 
garments  of  the  clergy.  Nevertheless  there  also 
appeared  new  requirements,  as  a  palm-branch  for 


INTRODUCTION  13 

the  angel  at  the  grave,  or  crowns  for  the  kings. 
When,  however,  the  devil,  the  soldiers  of  Herod,  and 
the  many  different  characters  of  the  Prophet  play 
appeared  on  the  stage,  a  greater  variety  in  costum- 
ing was  necessary.  With  the  development  of  the 
plays  and  their  separation  from  the  Church  service, 
it  is  probable  that  more  care  was  devoted  to  the 
adornment  of  the  places  where  each  individual 
stood,  but  nevertheless  it  seems  that  people  were 
satisfied  with  a  treatment  which  merely  indicated 
the  places  symbolically. 

"  It  has  frequently  been  noticed  that  the  early 
medieval  drama  in  its  development  out  of  Church 
usages  offers  a  certain  analogy  to  the  commence- 
ment of  Greek  tragedy.  Yet  in  the  very  first 
stage  of  the  medieval  drama,  a  mark  of  distinction 
is  apparent,  one  which  ever  becomes  of  greater  sig- 
nificance. The  dramatic  portrayal  of  events  from 
sacred  history  had  the  same  aim  as  the  paintings  of 
the  church,  the  same  aim  which  the  English  liber 
consuetudinum  connects  with  the  ceremonial  of  the 
burial  of  the  Cross  on  Good  Friday — of  strength- 
ening the  unlettered  people  in  their  belief.  Such 
representations  [as  the  liturgical  plays]  can  be  de- 
scribed as  a  sort  of  instruction  by  observation,  in 
which  the  people,  knowing  no  Latin,  drank  in  with 
their  eyes  what  could  not  come  to  them  by  merely 
listening.  .  .  .  Since  as  little  as  possible  was  or  could 
be  put  behind  the  scenes,  the  spectator  might  see 
everything,  and,  as  it  were,  grasp  all  in  hand.  .  .  . 

"  There  was  an  inconvenience  connected  with  the 
fact  that  all  persons  must  appear  and  take  their 
places  on  the  stage  at  the  beginning  of  the  play, 


14  INTRODUCTION 

for  it  was  not  possible  thus  to  produce  any  effect 
of  surprise  by  making  a  new  personage  come  un- 
expectedly into  view.  Hence  the  medieval  poets 
frequently  excluded  individual  persons  from  the 
mass  of  the  great  procession  at  the  play's  opening. 
For  instance,  the  composer  of  the  French  Morality 
Charity  (XVth,  XVIth  c.— vide  Petit  de  Julleville 
— Repertoire  du  theatre  comique)  does  not  bring 
forward  the  terrible  figure  of  Death  at  the  general 
display  with  which  the  drama  begins,  but  waits 
till  the  proper  time  in  the  course  of  the  action. 
Scenes  like  the  appearance  of  Antichrist  and  of 
King  Darius,  prove,  however,  that  this  effect  [of 
surprise]  was  made  use  of  at  a  much  earlier  time. 
Also  in  the  oldest  French  play  of  Adam,  the  pro- 
phets are  told  in  the  stage  directions  to  remain 
out  of  sight  till  the  time  for  their  Dart  is  at  hand." 

Concerning  the  manner  in  which  the  text  of  these 
liturgical  plays  was  delivered,  M.  Coussemaker  has 
collected  music  from  these  dramas,  showing  that  most 
of  the  dialogues  must  have  been  chanted  or  sung. 
The  music  was  not  decorative,  however  much  it  might 
have  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  play. 

In  the  tentative  period,  foreshadowing  that  of  the 
transition  and  that  of  the  XlVth  and  XVth  centuries, 
when  the  well-known  Mystery  cycles  were  in  the  as- 
cendency, the  student  of  medieval  literature  will  meet 

with  great  changes  due  to  social 

THE  TRANSITION     evolution.     For    instance,    the 

PERIOD.  adoption  of  the  vernacular  was 

not  sudden ;  it  came  slowly,  intro- 
duced by  means  of  fragmentary  and  explanatory 
passages  in  plays  and  sermons. 


INTRODUCTION  15 

Starting  with  a  purely  religious  motive,  the  drama 
followed  the  lines  of  social  development,  and  was  af- 
fected by  social  changes.  The  popularization  of 
plays  which  were  religious  in  character,  but  which 
were  not  religious  plays,  was  coincident  with  the  em- 
phasis of  a  new  class  of  people,  which  during  the 
Xllth,  XHIth,  and  XlVth  centuries,  became  a  vital 
factor  in  the  social  organism.  The  dramatic  ele- 
ments, at  first  accepted  as  the  visible  exposition  of  a 
faith,  and  interpreted  in  a  language  unknown,  save 
in  the  Church,  now  became  in  themselves  an  end. 
From  the  simplest  suggestion,  illustrative  of  a  re- 
ligious text,  they  developed,  by  enlargements  and 
additions  of  various  kinds,  into  independent  plays. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Church  had  to  meet  a  neces- 
sity upon  which  her  very  existence  was  to  depend. 
The  need  of  making  herself  understood  by  an  illit- 
erate people  brought  on  a  gradual  modification  in 
the  language,  coincident  with  the  introduction  of  the 
dramatic  elements.  These  elements  were  used  through 
necessity,  but  after  being  accepted  as  essential,  their 
further  development  became  wholly  independent,  cor- 
responding with  the  increase  of  the  dramatic  interest 
of  the  people. 

The  few  instances  in  which  the  vulgar  tongue  was 
used  in  the  liturgical  drama  show  the  stress  to  which 
the  clergy  were  put.  They  were  either  forced  to  meet 
a  social  demand,  or  to  relinquish  one  means  of  their 
social  influence,  and  while  among  themselves  the 
Latin  language  might  be  used,  they  realized  that  a 
dividing  line  must  be  drawn  intellectually  between 
what  was  intended  for  the  Church  and  for  the  world. 


16  INTRODUCTION 

The  rise  of  the  Scholar  plays,  written  in  the  Latin 
tongue  especially  for  the  clergy,  was  a  partial  re- 
sult of  this  division. 

The  change  in  language  hastened  a  period  of  tran- 
sition in  spirit,  a  transition  from  the  dramatic  in  the 
religious  to  the  religious  in  the  dramatic.  The 
Church  became  a  prey  to  outside  influences  which 
sought  to  degrade  the  clergy;  but,  attacking  both 
religious  institutions  and  religious  literature,  it  was 
easier,  in  the  end,  to  restore  order  in  the  Church 
through  canonical  proscriptions  of  these  extraneous 
influences  than  to  root  out  from  the  literature  a 
popular  spirit  drawn  from  the  life  of  the  time. 

In  1125,  when  Abelard  was  offered  the  abbotship 
of  the  monastery  of  St.  Gildas  de  Ruys,  in  Lower 
Brittany,  it  is  said  that  he  found  the  country  wild; 
the  inhabitants  half-barbarous,  and  speaking  a  lan- 
guage unintelligible  to  him ;  the  monks  violent,  un- 
ruly, and  dissolute,  openly  living  with  concubines; 
the  lands  of  the  monastery  subjected  to  intolerable 
burdens  by  the  neighboring  lord;  and  the  monks  in 
poverty  and  discontent.  "  Instead  of  finding  a  home 
of  God-fearing  men,  eager  for  enlightenment,  he 
found  a  nest  of  greed  and  corruption." 

Feudalism,  the  foundation  of  the  life  of  the  Middle 
Ages,  affected  the  ecclesiastical  world,  and  class  dis- 
tinction among  the  clergy,  as  among  the  laity,  made 
it  possible  for  the  religious  office  to  become  one  of  per- 
sonal aggrandizement,  with  a  power  which  even  the 
nobles,  which  even  the  monarch  himself,  did  not  have  ; 
— the  spiritual  power  of  salvation  or  damnation. 
And  while  the  heads  of  the  Church  were  thus  vying 


INTRODUCTION  17 

with  the  temporal  power,  the  subordinates,  seeing  the 
lax  condition  of  their  religious  orders,  took  advan- 
tage, and,  through  negligence,  often  sank  into  ig- 
norance and  vice. 

Elinand  wrote :  "  Every  prelate  is  established  by 
God,  above  nations  and  above  kingdoms.  From  the 
beginning,  God  has  desired  that  all  secular  dignity 
should  be  subject  to  ecclesiastical  authority,  and 
dwell  face  to  face  with  it  in  the  relation  of  inferior 
to  superior,  of  the  lowest  to  the  highest."  This  was 
the  position  which  the  Church  claimed  to  hold,  and  the 
stronger  men  of  the  clergy,  fearing  that  their  au- 
thority was  in  jeopardy,  soon  realized  the  necessity 
of  checking  the  degradation  of  the  priesthood.  Thus 
there  arose  the  spirit  of  reform.  The  clergy  began 
to  be  condemned  by  the  clergy;  the  unworthy  criti- 
cized by  the  worthy.  Cardinal  de  Vitry  taxed  the 
prelates  because  of  incontinency,  and  added :  "  How 
are  we  to  blame  the  women  .  .  .  when  they  [the  pre- 
lates] delight  themselves  in  the  weakness  of  gorgeous 
costumes.  The  women,  at  least,  have  for  an  excuse 
to  please  their  husbands."  Another  exclaimed :  "  See 
how  the  bishops  live,  how  they  travel!  Is  it  thus 
that  their  predecessors,  Peter  and  Paul,  did?  "  And 
so  the  more  alert  and  the  more  pious  began  to  impose 
restrictions  upon  the  subordinates  under  their  charge, 
and  the  seriousness  of  their  calling  began  to  be  more 
forcibly  impressed. 

The  allurements  of  the  outside  world  had  entered 
the  cloister,  and  by  the  side  of  the  religious  and 
scholarly  spirit  of  the  plays  there  slowly  developed 
coarser  elements,  which  lightened  the  hours,  and  af- 


18  INTRODUCTION 

forded  a  suspicious  kind  of  amusement  for  the  monks. 
Finding  that  this  was  detracting  from  the  Church's 
chief  object,  restrictions  were  vigorously  imposed. 

From  this  it  is  readily  seen  what  effect  such  condi- 
tions must  have  had  upon  the  literature  of  the  time. 
If  the  drama,  which  was  to  be  used  by  the  Church  as 
a  means  toward  an  end,  was  to  maintain  the  early 
ecclesiastical  traditions,  it  must  return  to  its  purely 
religious  purpose,  which  had  formerly  been  fostered 
by  the  intensity  of  the  religious  spirit  of  the  clergy. 
On  the  other  hand,  social  conditions  had  so  changed 
that  the  clergy  found  themselves  confronted  by  ele- 
ments which  could  not  be  consistently  adopted,  be- 
cause they  were  fundamentally  opposed  to  the  re- 
ligious spirit.  Religious  tradition  and  the  new-born 
individuality,  therefore,  contended  and  resulted  in 
a  separation  into  two  distinct  genres  of  the  drama, 
one  for  the  clergy  and  the  other  for  the  people. 

In  the  long  history  of  the  Church,  the  Church 
Fathers  constantly  opposed  actors,  and  limited  their 
religious  privileges.*  They  were  assisting,  so  the 
clergy  contended,  in  perpetuating  the  very  amuse- 
ments which  paganism  had  fostered,  and  which,  with 
so  much  difficulty,  the  early  Church  had  opposed 
and  partly  subdued. 

In  a  letter  of  791,  Alcuin,  Abbot  of  Tours  (735?- 
804),  wrote: 

"  One  who  brings  into  his  house  actors  and  mimes 
and  dancers  little  knows  how  much  impurity  comes 
in  with  them." 
*  Vide  Bibliography  under  H.  S.  Symmes  [French  period  ]. 


INTRODUCTION  19 

Agobard,  Archbishop  of  Lyons,  in  836,  contrasted 
the  state  of  the  actor  with  that  of  the  poor,  in  this 
manner : 

"  The  actors,  the  mimes,  and  the  deceiving  and 
infamous  joculators  are  given  money  to  get  drunk 
on,  while  the  poor  of  the  Church  are  dying  in  the 
agonies  of  hunger." 

The  pleasures  of  the  noble  class,  catered  to  by  the 
wandering  minstrel,  resulted  in  the  neglect  of  the 
poor,  and  became  a  source  of  constant  annoyance  to 
the  Church.  Otto  von  Freisingen,  a  German  chron- 
icler, describes  the  marriage  of  Kaiser  Heinrich  II. 
(reigned  1002-1024)  in  these  words : 

"  When  the  royal  marriage  was  in  its  due  course 
of  celebration  at  the  Castle  of  Ingelheim,  a  crowd 
of  actors  and  joculators  flocked  there,  as  they  had 
been  accustomed  to  do.  But  the  King  sent  them 
away  empty-handed,  and  distributed  freely  among 
the  poor  what  he  had  rescued  from  the  servants  of 
the  devil." 

The  Council  of  Aachen  decreed  that  when  priests 
went  to  marriages  or  officiated  at  other  social  func- 
tions, they  must  leave  the  house  as  soon  as  actors 
("  histriones,  musici,  out  mimi ")  appeared.  The 
Fourth  Lateran  Council  (1215),  on  the  other  hand, 
decreed  that  all  Christians  (including  the  actors 
themselves)  should  confess  at  least  once  a  year,  and 


20  INTRODUCTION 

were  there  no  cause  for  the  priest  to  refuse,  even  the 
latter  might  receive  communion.  But  if  this  was  de- 
nied, the  actor  must  not  be  allowed  to  enter  the 
church,  nor  could  he  thereafter  be  given  Christian 
burial.  While  the  tone  of  opposition  was  strong,  it 
was  only  the  opposition  of  the  religious  spirit  of  the 
Church  to  a  coarse  and  popular  spirit  which  was  be- 
coming manifestly  more  imminent.  Thomas  Aquinas 
(d.  1274),  in  his  Summa  Theologies,  wrote: 

"  As  has  been  said,  the  drama  is  necessary  in 
human  society,  .  .  .  and  the  function  of  the 
actors,  which  is  to  give  recreation  to  mankind,  is 
neither  in  itself  improper,  nor  do  those  persons  sin 
who  exercise  it  with  moderation  in  a  play.  How- 
ever, they  must  not  use  forbidden  words,  nor  depict 
improper  events,  nor  represent  their  drama  at  im- 
proper times.  In  so  far  as  actors  observe  these 
restrictions,  there  is  no  sin  in  assisting  them,  and 
it  is  only  just,  moreover,  to  pay  them  for  their 
services." 

But  the  prohibition  against  the  use  of  coarse 
words,  the  due  consideration  for  the  content  of  the 
subject,  and  the  time  and  place  of  presentation  were 
disregarded;  the  decrees  soon  became  couched  in 
stronger  and  more  imperative  language.  Innocent 
III.,  in  1210,  issued  the  following: 

"  It  is  occasionally  the  custom  to  give  dramatic 
representations  in  the  church,  and  not  only  are 


INTRODUCTION  21 

hideous  masks  employed,  which  make  a  mockery  of 
the  spectacle,  but  at  some  festivities  the  deacons, 
priests,  and  sub-deacons  themselves  perform  these 
outrageous  sports.  Therefore,  lest  the  honor  of 
the  Church  be  stained  by  such  iniquity,  we  com- 
mand that  ye  shall  either  take  heed  to  root  out 
from  your  churches  that  favorite  custom,  or  see  to 
the  removal  of  every  trace  of  corruption  in  those 
plays." 

The  prohibitions  at  first  referred  principally  to  the 
social  status  of  the  actor;  but  later  the  attitude  of 
the  Church  becoming  more  aggressive,  these  prohibi- 
tions were  aimed  against  the  presentation  of  the 
drama  within  the  church  edifice,  and,  furthermore, 
against  the  priests  taking  part  in  any  presentation 
whatsoever. 

Examples  of  such  restrictions  came  from  the  Coun- 
cil of  Treves  (1227)  and  the  Utrecht  Synod  (1293). 
The  former  stated: 

"  Priests  are  not  permitted  to  give  dramatic  rep- 
resentations, or  other  plays  of  improper  character, 
within  the  church." 

The  latter  decreed: 

"  We  forbid  that  dramatic  representations, 
spectacles,  and  the  use  of  masks  shall  take  place  in 
the  churches." 

The   restrictions   have   one  point   in   common — a 


22  INTRODUCTION 

determined  opposition  to  the  coarseness  and  the  buf- 
foonery which  had  entered  the  liturgical  drama.  The 
same  spirit  which  emphasized  the  part  of  Balaam  and 
his  ass  in  the  Prophetes  du  Christ  was  on  the  alert 
to  take  advantage  of  every  opportunity  that  pre- 
sented itself  to  increase  the  farce  element.  When 
the  prohibitions  were  finally  enforced,  the  liturgical 
drama  did  not  leave  the  church,  but  that  popular 
part,  from  which  the  priests  as  actors  were  excluded, 
was  pushed  into  the  open,  where,  in  a  freer  atmo- 
sphere, it  readily  assumed  an  independent  and  rapid 
growth.  This  fact,  that  the  church  now  served  no 
longer  as  a  complete  setting  for  the  play,  is  one  of 
the  chief  characteristics  of  the  transition  period. 
Within  the  sanctuary,  whatever  development  there 
was,  discordant  with  the  religious  spirit,  was  neces- 
sarily limited.  But  outside  of  the  cloister,  there 
were  agents  in  the  medieval  life  which  were  influenc- 
ing the  desires  of  the  people,  and  which  were  serving 
as  a  stimulus  to  imagination.  These  elements  acted 
as  a  foil  to  ecclesiastical  self-restraint.  And  once 
in  the  churchyard,  the  atmosphere  throughout  the 
drama  changed,  became  freer,  became  more  preg- 
nant with  the  individuality  of  the  people,  and  began 
immediately  to  expand. 

While  the  new  characteristics  introduced  into  the 
plays  were  opposed  to  the  religious  spirit,  and  aided 
in  driving  the  drama  into  the  churchyard,  the  clergy 
soon  saw  the  necessity  for  retaining  certain  details 
of  a  popular  nature,  as  essential  to  the  Church  as  to 
the  dramatic  representations.  The  drama,  because 
of  its  popular  touches,  has  always  appealed  to  the 


INTRODUCTION  23 

more  or  less  illiterate  class.  This  the  Church  real- 
ized, and  in  order  to  preserve  her  power  began  to 
institute  certain  radical  changes  along  lines  similar 
to  the  changes  being  made  in  the  drama  she  had  re- 
lentlessly condemned. 

Humor  had  to  be  introduced  into  the  sermons  in 
order  to  create  interest.  Moreover,  the  priest,  when 
before  his  congregation,  was  forced  to  adopt  some 
means  of  keeping  his  hearers  awake.  One  monk  gave 
as  his  reason  for  the  non  attention  of  the  people,  that 
their  souls  were  not  pure.  Another,  in  the  midst  of 
his  sermon,  seeing  tired  faces  and  drooping  eyes 
around  him,  even  among  his  brothers  of  the  monas- 
tery, stopped,  and  in  a  loud  voice  began: 

"  Once  there  was  a  king  named  Arthur." 

The  effect  was  instantaneous;  heads  were  raised 
and  all  showed  themselves  eager  for  the  tale.  But 
after  the  cure  came  the  priestly  indignation : 

"  When  I  speak  of  God  you  sleep ;  but  to  hear 
fables,  you  keep  yourselves  awake." 

We  read  of  Jacques  de  Vitry  (b.  circa  1180;  d. 
circa  1240-1260),  who  rose  to  the  rank  of  Cardinal, 
advising  the  people  before  him  to  stick  pins  into  those 
who  slept.  Some  priests  announced  at  the  beginning 
of  the  sermon  that  they  would  be  brief.  In  many 
instances,  the  men  of  the  congregation  left  before 
the  sermon,  only  to  return  when  it  was  through. 
The  cause  for  this  seeming  lack  of  interest  was  due 
to  the  fact  that  the  congregation  at  first  was  not 


24.  INTRODUCTION 

considered  a  vital  participant  in  the  service.  But 
when  question  and  response  were  introduced  into  the 
Church  liturgy,  and  the  adoption  of  the  vernacular 
in  the  sermon  made  the  service  partially  coherent  and 
understandable  to  the  crowd,  voices  in  the  congrega- 
tion were  often  raised  during  the  progress  of  the  ser- 
mon, disputing  assertions  made  by  the  priest. 
Women  especially  took  exception  to  the  free  mention 
of  their  sex  in  the  priestly  censure.  Penetrating 
even  to  the  cloister,  these  interruptions  came  from 
the  clergy  likewise,  and  were  constant  and  vociferous. 

Outside  of  the  monastery,  those  of  the  ecclesiastical 
brotherhood  who  travelled  from  place  to  place,  look- 
ing after  the  welfare  of  the  people,  resorted  to  stories 
or  exempla,  with  which  to  give  pungency  to  the  moral 
of  the  sermon.  So  childlike,  in  many  respects,  were 
the  people  of  the  Middle  Ages ;  so  credulous,  that  it  is 
not  only  reconcilable  how  a  drama,  based  upon  their 
belief,  and  intensified  by  what  now  seems  to  be  super- 
stition, should  have  gradually  developed,  but  it  is 
natural  that  the  clergy  should  now  reach  out  beyond 
their  dogmatic  prejudices,  and  make  use  of  the  over- 
weening childlike  desire  for  a  story. 

Among  the  most  famous  exempla  to  be  found  are 
those  of  Jacques  de  Vitry.  The  character  of  the 
priest's  hearers  necessitated  a  change  in  his  method 
of  delivery,  and  his  tales  became  so  much  sought  after 
that  he  made  a  collection  of  his  exempla  for  the  use 
of  clerics  and  preachers.  The  sarcasm,  the  aptness, 
the  moral  behind  the  apparent  lightness,  may  well 
be  seen  by  quoting  a  few  anecdotes  which  are  of  spe- 
cial interest  because  of  their  distinct  local  color: 


INTRODUCTION  25 

"  A  certain  holy  man,  while  in  choir,  saw  the 
devil  loaded  down  with  a  full  sack.  He  adjured 
the  devil  to  tell  him  what  he  was  carrying,  and  the 
devil  replied  that  the  sack  was  full  of  the  syllables 
and  words  and  verses  of  the  psalms,  abbreviated  or 
omitted  by  the  clergy,  during  that  service.  '  These 
I  diligently  preserve  for  their  accusation.' ' 

"  When  Jacques  de  Vitry  was  preaching  the  cru- 
sade in  a  certain  town,  a  man  was  persuaded  by  his 
wife  to  absent  himself  from  the  sermon.  From 
curiosity,  however,  he  stood  by  the  window,  and 
heard  of  the  great  rewards  in  the  way  of  indul- 
gences, etc.,  promised  to  those  who  took  the  Cross. 
Moved  at  length  by  what  he  heard,  he  lowered  him- 
self from  the  window,  because  his  wife  was  guard- 
ing the  door,  and  took  the  Cross.  His  example 
was  followed  by  many." 

"  A  knight,  about  to  embark  on  the  crusade,  had 
his  little  children,  whom  he  dearly  loved,  brought 
before  him,  in  order  that  his  departure  might  be 
made  more  bitter,  and  his  merit  increased." 

"  St.  Gregory  tells  of  a  woman  who  ate  lettuce 
without  making  the  sign  of  the  Cross,  and  swal- 
lowed the  devil.  When  a  holy  man  tried  to  exor- 
cise him,  the  devil  said:  '  What  fault  is  it  of  mine? 
I  was  sitting  on  the  lettuce,  and  she  did  not  cross 
herself,  and  so  ate  me  too.' ' 

What  these  exempla  emphasize  is  above  all  that 
even  in  the  Church  human  interest  was  held  virtually 
by  the  same  means  as  in  the  religious  plays.  The 
primary  purpose  was  to  create  interest;  at  the  same 


26  INTRODUCTION 

time  the  stories  retained,  to  a  less  important  degree,  a 
touch  of  the  religious  spirit. 

Once  outside  the  church,  the  drama  was  furthered 
by  an  innate  love  of  pomp,  and  by  a  gradual  increase 
in  local  individuality,  which  became  manifest  in  the 
establishment  of  gilds.  But  before  reaching  the 
people  and  becoming  vital  to  them,  the  plays  had  to 
undergo  another  change,  which  came  simultaneously 
with  the  introduction  of  the  humorous  elements  above 
mentioned,  and  which  increased  their  popular  charac- 
ter. This  was  the  change  from  the  Latin  tongue  to 
the  vernacular.  In  the  drama,  previous  to  this  pe- 
riod, French  or  German  had  been  used  to  explain  the 
Latin  text,  but  the  ecclesiastical  tongue  prevailed, 
and  examples  of  the  popular  speech  were  few  and 
far  between. 

The  innovation  in  language  met  a  popular  demand, 
and  the  Church  realized  that  its  power  would  aug- 
ment only  so  soon  as  her  service  was  understood.  In 
different  localities,  various  dialects  of  the  French  and 
German  tongues  had  long  ago  developed.  Natu- 
rally this  had  resulted  in  Latin  becoming  alien  to 
every  one,  except  to  the  ecclesiastics.  At  first  the 
vernacular  was  simply  used  to  translate  particular 
portions  of  the  Latin  text,  then  to  paraphrase  them. 
Forming  at  times  entire  refrains,  the  popular  speech 
at  last  predominated,  with  here  and  there  a  passage 
remaining  in  Latin.  Finally,  as  in  the  case  of  two 
plays,  Adam  and  the  Resurrection,  which  are  typical 
of  this  period,  the  drama  was  written  entirely  in  the 
popular  tongue.2 

A  similar  evolution  took  place  in  the  sermons.  The 


INTRODUCTION  27 

mixture  called  the  macaronic  style  was  used  as  early 
as  1262,  the  sermons  of  the  XHIth  century  being 
divided  into  those  addressed  to  the  faithful,  which, 
though  written  in  Latin,  were  preached  in  French; 
and  those  addressed  to  the  clerks,  which  were  delivered 
in  Latin.  In  Charlemagne's  time  (742-814),  he  ad- 
vised that  lessons  (predications)  be  given  in  the  dia- 
lects which  the  common  people  could  understand. 
In  813  at  Rheims,  Tours,  and  Mayence,  councils  de- 
creed that  not  only  should  the  homilies  of  the  Fathers 
be  translated  into  the  ordinary  or  popular  tongue  of 
the  country  ("  in  rusticam  romanam  Imguam,  aut 
theotiscam"),  but  that  they  should  be  preached  in 
an  intelligible  fashion  to  all  people,  in  accordance 
with  the  necessities  of  their  language  (**  secundum 
proprietatem  Imguce  ").  From  the  Xth  to  the  Xllth 
centuries  other  changes  were  perfected.  First  the 
sermons  were  delivered  in  Latin,  sections  being  trans- 
lated by  the  officiant  to  aid  the  people  in  following 
the  thread  of  the  discourse;  then  the  sermons  were 
translated  entirely,  and  in  the  Xllth  century,  they 
were  circulated  among  the  clergy.  The  effect  of 
such  translations  in  France  was  either  to  lengthen  or 
to  shorten  the  original,  and  at  the  head  of  the  Xlllth 
century  manuscripts  appeared  the  descriptions :  **  in 
vulgari,  in  latino  ";  the  themes,  however,  according  to 
LeCoy  de  la  Marche  (La  Chaire  Francaise),  were 
announced  in  Latin,  as  they  are  often  done  to-day. 
Jacques  de  Vitry  said: 

"  When  we  speak  in  the  convents  and  the  assem- 
blies, en  langue  latine,  we  are  able  to  say  many 


28  INTRODUCTION 

things,  because  we  are  not  obliged  to  descend  to 
minute  explications ;  but  with  the  laity  it  is  always 
necessary  to  be  precise,  and  to  put  dots  over  the 
i's ;  for  the  sacred  word  should  be  as  clear  and  as 
lucid  to  them  as  is  the  carbuncle  stone." 

There  are  instances  of  the  clergy  becoming  ig- 
norant of  Latin,  due  to  this  introduction  of  the  ver- 
nacular ;  and  in  the  cloister  it  often  became  necessary 
to  have  the  Latin  sermon  followed  by  a  French 
translation. 

This  adoption  of  the  vernacular  in  the  Church 
showed  a  desire  on  the  part  of  the  clergy  to  take  the 
people  more  into  consideration.  As  the  drama,  out- 
side of  the  church,  was  afforded  vast  scope  in  the 
selection  of  details  not  purely  reh'gious,  so  the  use 
of  the  vernacular  lent  a  pliability  to  the  treatment 
of  religious  material  that  tended  to  vary,  rather  than 
to  fix,  the  dramatic  forms.  It  likewise  occasioned 
another  change  from  the  sung  questions  and  responses 
of  the  Christmas  and  Easter  celebrations  to  the 
spoken  play.  Music  that  had  a  vital  connection  with 
the  service  continued  its  growth;  but  the  dramatist, 
through  the  increased  dramatic  instinct  to  write 
plays  for  their  special  dramatic  value,  evidently  real- 
ized the  importance  of  speech  in  the  development  of 
character.  The  change  to  the  vernacular  resulted 
in  a  local  and  personal  individuality  that  infused 
renewed  life  into  the  drama,  where  the  sung  questions 
and  responses  had  tended  to  keep  all  within  pre- 
scribed religious  bounds. 

During  the  Middle  Ages  the  theory  of  music  had 


INTRODUCTION  29 

attained  a  high  development.  In  the  Church  it  took 
the  form  of  a  chant,  and  in  the  liturgical  plays  it 
was  used  as  a  means  of  dramatic  expression.  But 
the  earlier  liturgical  dramas,  the  tropes,  were  actual 
parts  of  the  intoned  service;  and  M.  Coussemaker 
(L'Art  Harmon,  aux  XII*  et  XIII*  Siecles)  be- 
lieves that  the  music  for  them  was  only  a  liturgical 
chant,  with  the  addition  of  a  special  melody  for  that 
section  of  the  drama  which  was  not  based  upon  the 
liturgical  text.  On  particular  Church  festival-days, 
likewise,  special  musical  features  were  added  as  or- 
ganic parts  of  the  representations.  It  must  be  borne 
in  mind  that  the  liturgical  music  was  to  the  Church  a 
means  toward  an  end,  a  dramatic  means,  moreover, 
of  holding  the  interest  of  the  people  chiefly  through 
the  emotions. 

At  Paris,  Poitiers,  Treves,  Bourges,  and  Rouen ; 
in  the  many  abbeys  throughout  France,  the  most 
famous  being  that  of  Saint  Gall  (the  home  of  the 
Gregorian  Chant),  not  only  religious  but  popular 
music  and  the  dance  were  taught.  The  instructor, 
or  leader  of  the  choir,  had  as  his  scholars*  those  who 
in  the  liturgical  plays  were  the  angels  and  the  chil- 
dren gathered  about  the  Jews.  It  was  his  duty  to 
compose  music  for  feast-days,  and  to  see  that  noth- 
ing objectionable  was  introduced  therein. 

Popular  influence  soon  manifested  itself  in  the 
music ;  the  Gregorian  Chant,  admitting  of  little  vari- 
ation, and  change  being  characteristic  of  the  transi- 
tion period,  extraneous  melodies  were  written  to 

*  Vide  Chapel  boys  [Babees  Boke,  E.  E.  T.  S.]  and  Cham- 
bers, Medieval  Stage,  I,  336,  The  Boy  Bishop. 


gO  INTRODUCTION 

satisfy  the  growing  popular  fancy.  Several  agents 
were  at  work  in  accomplishing  this  innovation,  and  in 
creating  a  demand  for  it.  The  troubadours,  the  trou- 
veres,  and  the  jongleurs  were  factors  that  hastened 
a  definite  separation  of  the  religious  from  the  popular 
elements  in  the  music.  As  in  the  development  of  the 
drama,  there  had  resulted  the  formation  of  two  types 
rather  than  the  entire  disappearance  of  the  parent 
form, — so  in  the  music  a  popular  spirit  was  fur- 
thered, which  did  not  replace  the  religious  music,  but 
created  alongside  of  it  a  popular  form,  largely  of 
the  wandering  minstrels'  making.  Indirectly  this  was 
another  cause  which  tended  to  hasten  the  transplant- 
ing of  the  drama  from  the  altar  to  the  churchyard. 
"  In  1227,"  says  Leon  Gautier,  "  the  Council  of 
Treves  launched  a  severe  anathema  against  vagabond 
scholars,  truants,  and  *  goliards,' "  who  appeared  in 
the  churches  and  monasteries,  singing  and  bringing 
with  them  the  ways  of  the  outside  world.  As  early 
as  the  Xth  century,  errant  clerks  among  the  clergy, 
becoming  a  disgrace  to  their  orders,  were  made  to 
flee  the  monasteries.  Incensed,  they  spread  evil  in- 
fluences among  the  people  and  evil  reports  concerning 
the  Church  among  the  poor.  They  introduced  love 
songs  of  a  ribald  character  into  plays,  and  many 
elements  antagonistic  to  the  religious  spirit;  they 
entered  the  churches  and  sang  the  Sanctus  and  Agnus 
Dei  in  such  a  manner  as  to  lead  the  congregations 
astray.  After  services,  beneath  the  walls  of  the 
cloister,  they  harangued  against  Rome  and  the  Pope. 
Into  the  plays  they  introduced  obscenities  and  pas- 
sions worldly  in  the  extreme,  and  set  religious  words 


INTRODUCTION  31 

to  a  new  form  of  music,  which  the  people  readily 
grasped  and  enjoyed. 

The  jongleurs,  as  these  outcasts  were  sometimes 
called,  were  an  ancient  class.  They  were  in  demand 
in  the  Middle  Ages  to  create  amusement  for  the 
people.  They  produced  chansons  de  gestes,  plays, 
and  light  songs,  and  sang  them  before  lords  and  peo- 
ple. On  the  battle-field,  in  the  castle,  upon  the  street 
they  found  their  audiences,  and  were  showered  with 
gifts  and  flattered  with  the  deepest  attention.  They 
depicted  life  and  action  of  the  most  varied  kind;  in 
their  persons  they  exemplified  freedom ;  and  with 
these  characteristics  they  opposed  the  old  religious 
spirit  of  the  liturgical  plays. 

The  constant  association  of  the  jongleurs  with  the 
people  began  through  popular  allusions  and  local 
touches  to  affect  their  work.  While  there  is  extant 
no  definite  description  of  a  French  audience  witness- 
ing a  drama,  still  there  must  have  been  no  very  wide 
difference  between  such  an  audience  and  the  crowd 
surrounding  the  jongleurs  in  the  street  and  at  the 
Court. 

In  the  introduction  to  their  songs,  these  wandering 
minstrels  very  frequently  address  those  about  them  in 
the  following  manner: 

Seignors  Roi,  Prince  et  Comte,  Chevalier  et  Baron, 
Bourgois,  canoine  prestre,  gent  de  religion, 
Dames  et  damiselles  et  petit  enfanchon,  etc. 
(Rom.  des  VOBUX  du  Paon.) 

Seignors  or  entendez  chevaliers  et  sergents,  Bour- 
goises  et  bourgois  et  saiges  clercs  lisant,  etc. 
(Rom.  d'ogier  le  Danois.) 


32  INTRODUCTION 

But  it  is  to  be  noted  with  interest  that  the  common 
people  are  not  even  mentioned  in  this  quotation.  The 
minstrels,  especially  the  trouveres  and  troubadours, 
were  nothing  if  not  aristocratic  in  their  tastes,  and 
knowing  this,  it  must  not  be  inferred  that  the  people, 
other  than  those  of  high  rank,  were  not  gathered 
around  the  bard  in  the  public  squares. 

Within  the  church  the  congregation  was  ranged 
in  a  circle,  and  was  divided,  the  men  on  one  side 
and  the  women  on  the  other  The  noble  ladies,  when 
they  came,  brought  with  them  soft  seats,  carried  by 
their  attendants,  while  the  other  seats  were  furnished 
by  the  church;  previous  to  the  Xlllth  century,  in 
France,  all  people  had  been  compelled  to  stand,  and 
the  nobles  and  chevaliers  were  consequently  not  over- 
enthusiastic  in  attending  service.  Jacques  de  Vitry 
exclaims: 

"  You,  on  the  contrary,  would  force  the  priest  to 
finish  the  Mass  promptly,  to  abandon  yourself  lei- 
surely to  the  pleasures  of  the  table." 

This  mixed  character  of  the  worshippers  within 
the  church,  was  also  marked  among  the  crowd  out- 
side; all  classes  of  the  feudal  system  were  repre- 
sented. Lord  and  lady,  knight  and  squire,  monk, 
merchant,  artisan,  and  serf  came  to  divine  worship, 
and  when  the  plays  developed  in  dramatic  content, 
more  and  more  people  flocked  to  see  them  until  they 
overflowed  the  church  limits,  causing  the  drama  to 
pass  into  the  churchyard.  Again  we  find  an  analogy 
in  the  placing  of  pulpits  in  the  churchyard,  and  in 


INTRODUCTION  33 

the  clergy  haranguing  the  crowd  from  the  church 
steps  or  gate. 

Written  in  the  vernacular,  with  only  the  stage 
directions  in  Latin;  spoken  rather  than  sung,  with  a 
definite  attempt  on  the  part  of  the  author  to  depict 
character  in  his  dialogue,  and  played  outside  of  the 
church — these  are  the  points  about  the  drama  most 
important  in  this  transitional  period,  especially  as  il- 
lustrated by  the  play  of  Adam — transitional,  because 
as  yet  fresh  from  the  Church,  it  retains  some  of  the 
religious  atmosphere. 

The  Adam  play  is  the  product  of  the  cyclic  devel- 
opment— showing  in  crystallization  what,  step  by 
step,  the  German  plays  better  exemplify.  The  Re- 
surrection (Xllth  century)  is  a  fragment,  but  in  it 
is  found  the  first  example  of  a  play  entirely  spoken 
rather  than  intoned.  Both  of  the  plays  are  French, 
and  are  in  part  still  semi-liturgical,  for  they  were 
represented  within  the  shadow  of  the  church  edifice, 
the  actors  in  many  cases  coming  from  the  church 
into  the  yard. 

The  Adam  play,  represented,  in  all  probability,  at 
the  feast  of  Christmas,  begins  with  the  scenic  back- 
ground of  a  terrestrial  paradise,  built  upon  a  scaf- 
fold to  the  right  of  the  church  and  to  the  left  of 
the  spectators,  and  reached  by  ladders.  The  plat- 
form was  spacious,  surrounded  by  curtains  and  silken 
hangings,  so  arranged  as  to  conceal  all  but  the  heads 
and  shoulders  of  those  who  were  in  paradise.  Trees, 
laden  with  fruits,  leaves,  and  flowers,  pictured  a  gar- 
den of  "  marvelous  beauty,"  in  the  midst  of  which 
a  great  tree,  the  acme  of  medieval  art,  was  placed 


34  INTRODUCTION 

with  a  mechanical  serpent  wound  around  its  trunk. 
To  the  left  of  the  church  and  to  the  right  of  the 
spectators  was  hell,  with  a  grilled  window  and  having 
for  an  entrance  the  enormous  mouth  of  a  dragon, 
which  opened  and  shut  mechanically.  From  the  stage 
directions  we  learn: 

*'  The  Saviour  shall  come,  clad  in  the  habit  of  a 
bishop ;  before  him  Adam  and  Eve.  Adam  shall  be 
dressed  in  a  red  tunic,  Eve  in  a  white  costume  for  a 
woman,  with  a  silk  cloak  also  of  white.  Adam  shall 
stand  nearer  to  God  in  an  attitude  of  respectful 
fear,  while  Eve  shall  be  placed  lower.  Adam  must 
be  properly  taught  when  to  make  his  replies,  for 
fear  of  speaking  too  soon  or  too  late ;  not  only  he 
but  all  the  others  should  be  instructed  to  speak 
suitably,  and  to  match  their  gestures  to  their 
words ;  in  the  recitations  they  shall  neither  add  nor 
take  away  a  syllable,  but  needs  must  pronounce 
clearly,  and  speak  one  after  the  other,  following 
the  order  indicated.  Every  time  any  one  of  them 
mentions  Paradise,  he  shall  turn  from  the  side 
where  he  finds  himself,  and  shall  point  to  it  with 
his  hands.  The  play  shall  begin  by  reading  the 
verses:  In  principle  creavit  Deus  ccdum  et  ter- 
ram.  .  .  .  After  which  the  choir  shall  sing:  R. 
Formavit  igitur  Dominus.  .  .  .  This  done,  God 
shall  say  Adam,  and  the  latter  shall  reply  Sei- 
gneur." 

The  Biblical  text  is  adhered  to  closely.    The  story 
of  Adam  and  Eve  is  followed  by  that  of  Cain  and 


INTRODUCTION  35 

Abel,  and  the  scene  with  the  prophet  is  reminiscent 
of  the  Proplietes  du  Christ.  Satan  flatters  Eve  in 
the  following  figurative  way: 

You  are  such  a  feeble  and  tender  thing, 
You  are  as  fresh  as  the  rose, 
You  are  whiter  than  the  crystal, 
Like  the  snow  on  the  ice  in  the  valley. 
The  Creator  has  mated  you  badly; 
You  are  tender,  Adam  is  stern. 
You  are  so  much  wiser  than  he,  .  .  . 
That  is  why  it  is  good  to  be  near  you. 

In  the  presentation  of  the  Resurrection,  the  plat- 
form was  divided  into  many  stations  or  fixed  posi- 
tions where  the  actors  stood,  supposed  to  be  invisible 
during  the  progress  of  that  part  of  the  action  in 
which  they  had  no  share.  There  was  a  place  for  the 
Crucifix  and  one  for  the  tomb;  there  was  a  jail  for 
the  prisoners,  and  a  heaven  and  a  hell.  Here  stood 
Caiaphas,  there  Pilate;  on  one  side  the  disciples,  on 
the  other  side  the  three  Marys.  Galilee  was  in  the 
middle  of  the  platform.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  in 
England  there  were  often  required  several  pageant 
•wagons  for  a  single  play,  each  one  fulfilling  the 
same  object  as  the  so-called  station. 

The  plot  of  the  drama  unfolds,  and  the  climax  is 
reached  in  the  scene  with  Joseph  and  Nicodemus  be- 
fore the  Cross.  Nicodemus,  taking  his  tools,  bemoans 
the  fact  that  the  Jews,  his  own  people,  should  have 
aided  in  the  Crucifixion ;  Joseph  says  to  him :  "  Go 
first  to  the  feet."  To  which  Nicodemus  rejoins: 


36  INTRODUCTION 

"  Willingly,  sir,  and  most  carefully."  Again  Joseph 
speaks:  "Climb  to  the  hands  and  remove  the  nails." 
And  Nicodemus  replies :  "  Sir,  I  shall  certainly  re- 
move both  of  them."  This  done,  Nicodemus  says  to 
Joseph,  who  holds  the  body,  "  Take  it  gently  in  your 
arms."  "  That  is  what  I  am  doing,"  he  says,  and 
together  they  descend  from  the  Cross,  and  call  for 
the  ointments  which  their  servants  bring.  The  play 
ends  with  the  scene  preceding  the  realization  of  the 
Resurrection. 

In  Adam  not  only  are  the  stage  directions  written 
in  Latin,  but  also  the  verses  introducing  each  proph- 
ecy. While  the  representation  was  given  in  the 
churchyard,  God,  the  sacred  character  in  the  action, 
came  from  the  church.  The  people  still  considered 
the  church,  as  M.  Sepet  has  said,  consecrated  to  re- 
ligion as  the  terrestrial  image  of  a  celestial  region. 
The  play  must  be  regarded  as  the  product  of  a  con- 
sistent development,  constructed  by  an  unknown  au- 
thor, probably  an  ecclesiastic ;  written  in  pure  Nor- 
man dialect,  and  acted  somewhere  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  Caen,  or  Rouen,  or  Bayeux  by  an  organiza- 
tion called  the  puy.s 

Adam  is  the  result  of  the  union  of  three  pieces. 
It  is  evolved  from  the  Prophet  play,  since  Adam  was 
considered  a  prophet.  His  sin  was  looked  upon  as 
a  necessary  event  preceding  the  birth  of  Jesus,  and 
God  expressed  as  much  when  turning  Adam  out  of 
paradise.  Abel  likewise  symbolized  the  Redeemer. 
It  is  thus  natural  that  Eve  and  Cain  should  be  in- 
cluded by  the  medievals  as  among  the  prophets. 
Having  then  these  four  in  the  procession  of  the 


INTRODUCTION  37 

prophets,  the  next  step  was  the  development,  in 
length,  of  the  several  prophecies  and  the  gradual 
assertion  of  the  details  in  each,  terminating  in  a 
separation  of  the  two  groups  into  two  distinct  plays. 
But  as  we  have  seen  in  our  study  of  the  cyclic  devel- 
opment of  the  Christmas  and  Easter  plays,  borrow- 
ing was  a  favorite  practice  among  clerical  dramatists, 
and  soon  the  author  of  Adam,  finding  material  al- 
ready at  hand,  fused  the  Adam  and  Cain  and  Prophet 
plays  into  one,  and  added  thereto  his  individual 
touch. 

It  is  probable  that  the  Adam  play  is  the  product, 
therefore,  of  four  distinct  moves,  which  M.  Sepet 
(Les  Proph.  du  Christ) ,  groups  as  follows: 

1.  Adam  and  Abel  are  introduced  into  the  Pro- 
phetes  du  Christ. 

2.  Their  roles  increase,  becoming  two  small  scenes 
analogous  to  those  of  Nebuchadnezzar  and  Balaam. 

8.  These  scenes  increase  and  separate,  forming 
two  distinct  dramas. 

4.  Then  these  two  dramas,  still  more  developed, 
are  placed  side  by  side,  the  scene  of  the  prophets  be- 
ing added. 

5.  In  turn  the  Adam  play  becomes  the  germ  of  a 
greater  Mystery  of  the  XVth  century. 

Outside  of  the  church  the  drama  still  clung  to 
Biblical  subjects,  and  was  followed  by  the  choir, 
which  remained  for  some  time  an  essential  feature. 
Sepet  says,  however,  it  is  easily  seen  that  "  the  actor 
is  able  to  move  freely  in  the  framework  "  and  to  pro- 
duce the  play,  not  only  as  an  officiant,  but  as  a  true 


S8  INTRODUCTION 

artist.  Nevertheless  he  adds  that  the  actors  of  the 
Adam  play  "  appear  still  singularly  rigid,  singularly 
dominated  by  the  exigencies  of  the  liturgy,  if  com- 
pared with  the  actors  of  Shakespeare's  time,  or  even 
with  those  of  the  large  Mysteries  of  the  XVth  and 
XVIth  centuries." 

A  greater  departure  from  the  liturgical  drama  is 
further  seen  in  the  Resurrection  play.  Notwithstand- 
ing that  it  is  a  fragment  of  only  366  verses,  it  shows 
a  more  pronounced  development  in  design  and  char- 
acter sketching ;  the  Latin,  likewise,  has  entirely  dis- 
appeared, save  in  the  names  of  the  characters.  It 
reveals  an  evident  aim  at  realism,  at  portraying 
sacred  subjects  not  simply  for  the  religious  story's 
sake,  but  because  of  an  undisguised  interest  in  the 
characters  themselves.  The  play  begins  with  the 
words,  Let  us  recite,  and  inasmuch  as  the  action  is 
told  in  the  directions,  it  might  be  inferred  that  it 
was  recited  or  read,  rather  than  represented. 

Adam  and  the  Resurrection  are  typical  in  their 
religious  content  of  the  plays  of  the  earlier  centuries. 
But  a  certain  change  in  spirit,  furthered  by  the  ad- 
dition of  purely  dramatic  outward  details,  marks 
them  as  of  the  transition  period.  The  two  manu- 
scripts contain  thorough  directions  for  acting,  as 
thorough  as  those  declaimed  by  Hamlet  to  the  play- 
ers ;  everywhere  there  is  evidence  of  the  fact  that  the 
writer  was  striving  for  artistic  effect.  To  the  church 
building,  that  had  once  been  sufficient  as  scenic  back- 
ground, were  added  mechanical  contrivances,  which 
were  used  primarily  for  theatrical  purpose:  to  make 
the  progress  of  a  Biblical  story  realistic,  more  life- 


INTRODUCTION  39 

like.  Coming  from  the  church,  the  actors  brought 
with  them  the  costumes  of  the  holy  celebrants,  which 
rapidly  assumed  a  mixed  character,  due  to  the  in- 
fluence of  other  than  the  religious  spirit.  It  is  true 
that  the  vital  religious  incidents  in  the  plays  retained 
their  serious  character  even  after  the  drama  had 
passed  entirely  from  Church  control.  Not  one  touch 
of  humor  can  be  found  in  the  Resurrection  centering 
about  the  Crucifixion;  but  in  Adam,  freed  from  re- 
ligious restraint  and  dogmatic  reserve,  the  touch  of 
the  dramatist  became  bolder.  The  art  side  of  the 
Resurrection  is  nevertheless  apparent  in  the  uncon- 
scious childlike  realism  of  the  Cross  scene;  while  in 
the  Adam  play  there  is  evident  the  hand  of  a  play- 
wright who  knows  much  of  human  character,  and  aims 
to  portray  it.  No  more  natural,  no  more  crafty  scene, 
is  to  be  met  with  than  that  in  which  Satan  obtains 
control  over  Eve ;  nothing  more  human  can  be  found 
than  the  rapid  dialogue  between  Cain  and  Abel,  in 
which  the  latter  hears  of  his  approaching  death.  In 
the  mortification  of  Adam,  in  the  humiliation  of  Eve 
after  the  Fall,  there  is  no  mere  paraphrasing  of  the 
Biblical  text.  There  is  creative  force  that  knows  the 
value  of  human  emotion,  that  realizes  a  situation 
where  art  can  be  made  effective. 

The  plays  reveal  a  double  picture :  the  one,  a  spec- 
tacular scene  from  the  Bible;  the  other,  a  reflex  of 
the  life  of  the  people  themselves.  The  effort  to  amuse 
is  a  conscious  one,  and  it  was  by  dramatic  means  that 
such  effect  was  accomplished.  The  followers  of  Sa- 
tan, the  demons  with  their  outward  antics,  satisfied 
the  coarse  and  awed  the  timid.  Coming  forth  when 


40  INTRODUCTION 

Eve  wavers  before  the  forbidden  apple,  they  rush 
among  the  people,  finally  arriving  at  Eve's  side  and 
yelling  into  her  ear,  "  eat,  eat."  The  popularity  of 
Satan  and  his  confreres  is  evident  by  the  frequent 
use  made  of  them.  Adam  and  Eve  are  both  dragged 
in  chains  to  hell;  Cain  and  Abel  are  likewise  taken 
and  after  each  prophecy,  the  prophets  meet  with  the 
same  fate.  As  the  demons  have  no  set  speeches  in 
the  plays,  their  random  gestures  and  their  roars  must 
have  appealed  to  the  audiences.  Hell  itself  was  de- 
picted with  elaborateness,  and  with  as  many  realistic 
touches  as  mechanical  ingenuity  could  supply. 

The  transition  period,  if  looked  upon  as  a  part  of 
a  continuous  development  of  the  drama,  shows  all 
the  elements  of  the  modern  theatre  in  the  germ.  Up 
to  this  time  there  had  been  a  general  evolution — 
one  stream  of  the  religious  drama,  wherever  the  re- 
ligious spirit  was  to  be  found.  But  once  beyond  the 
transition,  once  beyond  the  limitations  of  an  unknown 
tongue,  the  stream  took  many  courses  which  devel- 
oped separately.  The  nations  with  the  greatest 
power  of  assimilation,  with  the  most  vigorous  ca- 
pacity for  growth,  became  the  most  important  centres 
for  the  new  dramatic  spirit.  The  exact  time  when  the 
national  lines  were  drawn  is  impossible  to  state.  The 
drama's  growth  was  a  continuous  unfolding,  the 
plays  of  England,  France,  and  Germany  becoming 
distinct  just  as  soon  as  the  dramatist  became  an 
individual  in  the  general  social  life,  rather  than  a 
mere  factor  in  the  life  of  the  Church.  The  introduc- 
tion of  the  several  languages  would  in  itself  have 
been  sufficient  to  cause  a  separate  development  of 


INTRODUCTION  41 

the  drama  in  the  different  countries,  for  language 
was  one  of  the  most  important  of  national  charac- 
teristics. England,  France,  and  Germany  4  each  had 
its  period  of  transition,  in  which  a  drama  was  slowly 
created  for  the  people,  and  became  a  part  of  the  local 
life.  The  ecclesiastic  could  not  be  a  dramatist  so 
long  as  the  religious  spirit  restricted  him,  but  as 
soon  as  the  plays  were  taken  into  the  free  atmosphere 
of  the  world,  the  dramatist  grew  in  strength  and  his 
genius  became  more  dominantly  dramatic. 

The  effect  of  this  transition  period  was  therefore 
to  emphasize  the  characteristics  due  to  this  national 
feeling.  As  long  as  the  dominant  note  in  the  existing 
life  was  spiritual,  so  long  did  the  drama  remain  within 
the  church,  with  an  appeal  far  above  the  heads  of 
the  average,  save  for  the  pantomime  introduced.  This 
was  the  common  lot  of  the  beginnings  of  the  drama 
in  England,  France,  and  Germany — the  three  started 
from  the  same  point  in  the  development,  and  as  the 
years  progressed  they  diverged  into  three  national 
branches,  each  with  separate  characteristics  due  to 
environment,  language,  and  all  elements  that  give  the 
individual  stamp  to  a  nationality.  But  this  change 
was  not  due  to  any  marked  revulsion  from  the  spirit 
of  the  early  drama. 

Within  the  free  atmosphere  of  an  awakening  hu- 
manity, the  drama  broadened  and  began  to  show 
something  of  a  more  personal  nature.  In  France, 
during  the  XHIth  century,  two  plays  may  be  fixed 
as  to  authorship ;  but  to  offset  these,  there  are  forty 
Miracles  which  are  subject  to  conjecture  as  to  com- 
position. Jehan  Bodel  and  Rutebeuf  both  lived  dur- 


42  INTRODUCTION 

ing  the  reign  of  Saint  Louis  (1226-1276)  and  from 
autobiographic  data  we  learn  that  Bodel  had  leprosy, 
which  cut  him  off  from  society,  while  Rutebeuf,  a 
veritable  Villon  before  Villon's  time,  courted  favor, 
was  extravagant,  and  loved  good  cheer.  Bodel's  St. 
Nicholas  and  Rutebeuf's  Theophile6  are  valued  for 
their  local  touches  rather  than  for  their  art  work- 
manship ;  the  latter  shows  no  dramatic  strength,  but 
contains  the  Xlllth  century  spirit  and  that  element 
dominating  nearly  all  of  the  French  plays  of  the 
period — namely,  "  the  intervention  of  heaven  and  hell 
in  the  destiny  of  a  human  creature."  This  is  also  the 
particular  note  throughout  the  forty  Miracles  de 
Notre-Dame. 

Bodel's  St.  Nicholas,  based  on  the  popular  legend 
of  the  thieves  and  the  treasure  hidden  in  a  figure  of 
the  saint,  is  much  more  pretentious  than  Rutebeuf's 
dramatic  attempt,  and  abounds  in  local  color.  The 
author  exhibits  his  skill  in  a  tavern  scene  where  the 
robbers  form  their  plot,  and  his  situations  are  varied. 
The  Miracles  de  Notre-Dame  were  in  all  probability 
presented  or  written  about  the  middle  of  the  XlVth 
century,  occupying  thus  a  position  on  the  threshold 
of  the  medieval  drama  at  its  height.  And  these  plays 
show  a  firmer  treatment  than  either  the  plays  of 
Bodel  or  Rutebeuf — a  bolder  design,  a  surer  dramatic 
hand,  a  more  psychological  analysis ;  their  presenta- 
tion is  a  matter  of  conjecture,  but  it  is  safe  to  say 
that  they  were  fostered  by  one  of  the  numerous  puys 
of  the  time. 

The  separation  into  distinct  national  dramas  makes 


INTRODUCTION  43 

it  evident  that,  in  the  limits  of  an  Introduction,  some 
proscription  must  be  made.  In  France 
ENGLAND,  and  Germany  the  material  for  the  student 
is  rich  and  varied;  in  England  the  dra- 
matic art  at  its  height  is  best  typified  in  the  cycles, 
mention  of  which  is  now  to  be  made. 

It  must  be  understood  that  the  English  develop- 
ment went  through  the  same  phases  as  have  just  been 
traced.  Individual  activity  here  began  at  a  time  when 
France  had  passed  through  its  strictly  clerical  period 
of  drama,  and  when  the  infusion  of  Norman  blood 
immediately  after  the  Conquest,  encouraged  among 
the  English  people  a  pronounced  encroachment  of 
the  Norman  tongue.  The  history  of  the  English 
language  shows  the  struggle  between  the  two  for 
ascendency. 

The  religious  dramas  of  France  were  undoubtedly 
an  influence  in  the  history  of  the  English  drama,  but 
it  is  sufficient  to  note  that  notwithstanding  all  their 
national  characteristics,  the  general  trend  of  devel- 
opment in  the  different  countries  was  the  same. 

One  of  the  earliest  plays  on  English  soil  is  of  the 
Xllth  century,  the  Ludus  de  S.  Katharina,  played 
at  Dunstable,  and  probably  written  in  French.  It 
was  presented  by  the  pupils  of  Geoffrey,  Abbot  of 
St.  Albans.  Furthermore,  three  Latin  plays  by  Hi- 
larius  (circa  1125),  dealing  with  the  story  of  Daniel, 
the  Raising  of  Lazarus,  and  the  Miracles  of  St. 
Nicholas,  were  presented  in  the  first  half  of  the  Xllth 
century.  Of  London  Miracles  (circa  1170-1182), 
William  Fitzstej)hens  wrote : 


44  INTRODUCTION 

"  It  [London]  has  entertainments  of  a  more  de- 
vout kind,  either  representations  of  those  Miracles 
which  were  wrought  by  holy  confessors,  or  those 
passions  and  sufferings  in  which  the  martyrs  so 
rigidly  displayed  their  fortitude." 

By  the  time  of  Chaucer,  the  Mystery  play,  with 
its  pageant  in  the  open,  was  well  established,  and 
formed  a  most  important  part  in  the  rise  of  munici- 
pal life.  The  growth  of  the  great  cycles  was,  in 
fact,  coincident  with  the  growth  of  cities. 

The  Mysteries  of  the  XlVth  and  XVth  centuries, 
no  longer  controlled  by  the  clergy,  were  supported 
by  the  gilds  of  England  and  the  puys  and  confreries 
of  France.  Each  gild  had  a  patron  saint,  whose  day 
was  observed,  and  as  time  went  on,  rivalry  grew 
among  the  organizations  as  to  the  superior  merits 
of  the  presentations,  resulting  thereby  in  remarkable 
pageants  and  wonderful  artistic  ambitions.  If  there 
were  nothing  more  in  the  Mystery  plays  than  mere 
interest  in  local  atmosphere,  rather  than  in  the  work- 
manship of  the  playwright,  we  could  not  help  but 
admire  the  stupendous  effort  of  these  medieval  arti- 
sans to  present  graphically  and  appropriately  the 
story  of  the  Bible.  The  whole  sweep  of  events  in  the 
Great  Book  was  not  too  much  for  presentation,  even 
though  it  took  many  days.  These  were  the  times  for 
the  cycles  of  thousands  of  verses.  France  treasures 
for  the  zealous  student  more  than  one  million  lines. 
The  Mysore  du  Vieil  Testament,  a  combination  of 
six  Mysteries,  is  told  in  fifty  thousand  verses.  Noth- 
ing seemed  to  daunt  the  dramatist;  he  dealt  with 


INTRODUCTION  45 

largeness  everywhere ;  the  centre  of  action  was  at  any 
place;  the  extent  of  time  was  from  the  creation  of 
the  world  to  the  judgment. 

The  development  of  the  gilds  is  in  itself  a  study  of 
great  interest  and  importance.  The  rise  of  the 
cities  was  fostered  by  the  mercantile  or  commercial 
spirit,  which  prompted  the  union  of  interests  to  pro- 
tect trade.  But  the  Gild  Merchant,  the  history  of 
which  is  ably  set  forth  by  Mr.  Charles  Gross  in  his 
The  Gild  Merchant,  was  so  conservative  as  to  hinder 
the  free  progress  of  trade,  and  by  its  very  nature 
became  a  monopolist  of  the  most  oppressive  kind. 
In  the  XlVth  century,  the  non-gildsman  was  prac- 
tically debarred  from  earning  a  livelihood ;  foreign- 
ers, entering  a  city,  were  subject  to  the  most 
scrutinizing  regulations,  except  on  Fair  days,  when 
the  restrictions  were  removed.  A  reference  to  the 
Gild  Merchant  is  found  as  early  as  1087  and  by  the 
Xlllth  century,  at  least  one-third  of  the  boroughs 
throughout  England  could  boast  of  such  organiza- 
tions. The  spirit  of  the  gild  is  well  shown  by  a  grant 
from  Edward  I.,  dated  1296,  to  such  a  body  in 
Chester.  It  reads  in  part: 

"  No  one  who  is  not  sworn  and  admitted  into  the 
aforesaid  gild  can  merchandise  in  the  said  town 
without  the  license  and  consent  of  the  said  bur- 
gesses." 

The  craft  gilds  T  were  a  later  development  than  the 
Gild  Merchant,  and  while  an  artisan  always  had  the 
opportunity  of  becoming  a  master,  the  craft  was  not 
endowed  with  all  of  the  important  privileges  pos- 


46  INTRODUCTION 

sessed  by  the  Gild  Merchant.  This  union  of  the 
workers  of  one  trade  had  economic  results  that  were 
far-reaching,  since  the  desire  was  to  make  the  very 
best  product,  and  since  the  supervision  of  the  work 
was  most  rigid  and  adhered  to  a  high  standard  of 
excellence.  The  members  of  the  Gild  Merchant,  as 
time  went  on,  rapidly  assumed  important  positions 
in  municipal  life;  the  craft  gilds,  being  more  repre- 
sentative of  the  working  people,  exerted  more  influ- 
ence upon  the  local  town  life ;  the  two,  however,  were 
alike  subject  to  royal  decree  and  to  general  municipal 
orders. 

In  those  days  religious  fervor  never  lost  entire 
control  over  daily  life,  and  it  is  easy  to  imagine  how 
the  gilds  formed  the  idea  of  presenting  the  Mys- 
teries. The  plays,  before  they  were  actually  mounted 
by  the  gilds,  were  thoroughly  familiar  to  the  people 
in  subject  matter.  So  that  on  festival-days,  especially 
on  the  days  of  patron  saints,  the  gilds  gradually  took 
it  upon  themselves  each  to  present  a  portion  of  the 
Bible  story,  an  incentive  to  do  so  having  already  been 
found,  on  the  one  hand,  in  the  existing  dramas  which 
served  as  models,  and,  on  the  other,  in  the  extensive 
development  of  magnificent  processions,  encouraged 
by  royalty  and  by  the  body  ecclesiastical. 

Royal  entries  into  cities  imposed  upon  such  cities 
the  obligation  of  entertainment  and  welcome.  Among 
the  many  entries,  the  following  may  be  mentioned : 

1293 — Welcome  to  Edward  I.  upon  his  return  from 
Scotland.    London  gilds  marched  in  a  pro- 


INTRODUCTION  47 

cession  with  what  appear  to  have  been 
moving  pageants  indicative  of  trade. 

1313 — Mute  play  of  the  history  of  Jesus  Christ 
from  Nativity  to  Passion,  performed  at 
Paris,  before  Edward  II.  and  his  wife. 

1420 — Dec.  1 — Entry  of  Charles  VI.  and  Henry 
V.  into  Paris;  mute  Mystery,  with  sta- 
tionary pageants  representing  a  connected 
story,  the  Passion  of  Our  Saviour. 

1430 — Entry  of  Henry  VI.  into  London;  station- 
ary pageants;  verses  and  some  speaking. 

The  establishment  of  the  Corpus  Christi  festival, 
by  Pope  Urban  IV.  (circa  1264),  resulted  a  century 
later  in  the  founding  of  gilds  under  that  name. 
The  Fraternity  of  Corpus  Christi  of  the  Skinners 
of  London  dates  from  1327.  Mr.  Charles  Davidson 
(Eng.  Myst.  Plays)  quotes  as  follows  from  the  Sur- 
vey of  London: 

"  This  fraternity  had  also  once  every  year,  on 
Corpus  Christi  day  afternoon,  a  procession  which 
passed  through  the  principal  streets  of  the  city, 
wherein  were  borne  more  than  one  hundred  torches 
of  wax  (costly  garnished)  burning  light,  and 
above  two  hundred  clerks  and  priests,  in  surplices 
and  capes,  singing.  After  the  which  were  the 
sheriff's  servants,  the  clerks  of  the  compters, 
chaplains  for  the  sheriffs,  the  mayor's  sergeants, 
the  counsel  of  the  city,  the  mayor  and  aldermen  in 
scarlet,  and  then  the  Skinners  in  their  best  liveries." 

As  the  interest  in  these  presentations  increased,  the 


48  INTRODUCTION 

gilds  assessed  their  members  more  and  more,  in  order 
to  defray  expenses,  and  later  on  the  municipal  au- 
thorities themselves  fined  the  gilds  for  failure  to  pre- 
sent their  pageants  properly. 

A  discussion  of  the  English  Mysteries  necessitates 
an  explanation  of  the  terms  Mystery  and  Miracle. 
The  Mysteries  were  all  narratives  based  on  the  Gos- 
pels, "  their  object,"  says  A.  W.  Ward,  (Eng.  Dram. 
Lit.)  "being  primarily  to  set  forth,  by  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  prophetic  history  of  the  Old  Testament, 
and  more  particularly  of  the  fulfilling  of  the  New, 
the  central  mystery  of  the  Redemption  of  the  world, 
as  accomplished  by  the  Nativity,  the  Passion,  and 
the  Resurrection."  The  Miracles,  on  the  other  hand, 
deal  only  with  legends  of  the  saints ;  no  better  ex- 
amples of  such  can  be  found  than  the  Miracles  de 
Notre-Dame,  already  mentioned. 

The  progress  of  the  name  in  France  is  thus  out- 
lined by  Petit  de  Julleville  (Hist.  Theat.  en  Fr:  Les 
Mysteres} : 

Xllth  century — the  liturgical  dramas  were  called 
ludi,  representations,  histories  reprcesentandce.  The 
Adam  drama  was  designated  representation. 

Xlllth  century — Bodel's  St.  Nicholas  called  jeu; 
Rutebeufs  play,  however,  called  a  Miracle. 

XlVth  century — dramas  called  Miracles. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  before  the  XVth  cen- 
tury the  word  Mystere  was  not  used  in  France.  In 
1402  Charles  VI.  founded  the  Confrerie  de  la  Pas- 
sion, and  used  the  term  in  connection  with  them. 

In  examining  a  series  of  plays  that  form  each  a 
part  of  the  same  development,  and,  written  prac- 


INTRODUCTION  49 

tically  with  the  same  object  in  view,  cover  the  same 
ground  in  content,  one  must  expect  to  find  similari- 
ties, and  both  conscious  and  unconscious  imitation  on 
the  part  of  the  playwrights. 

Of  the  manuscripts  that  have  come  down  to  us,  the 
greatest  interest  centres  about  the  cycles  of  York, 
Towneley,  Chester,  and  Coventry;  but  within  the 
limits  here  prescribed  it  is  best  to  take  whatever  will 
give  the  most  satisfactory  picture  of  the  scope  and 
presentation  of  the  Mystery  at  its  height.* 

The  York  manuscript  that  is  now  available  bears 
the  probable  date  of  transcribing,  circa  1430-1440, 
and  contains  forty-eight  dramas ;  the  Towneley  plays, 
in  a  manuscript  likewise  of  the  XVth  century,  are 
thirty-two  in  number;  the  Chester  manuscript  dates 
from  1591f-1607  and  numbers  twenty-five  plays: 
while  the  Coventry  plays,  forty-two  in  all,  are  dated 
in  manuscript  circa  1468.  These  dates  are  most 
likely  many  years  after  the  actual  first  presentation, 
but  they  serve  the  purpose  of  establishing  some  defi- 
nite period,  yielding  as  the  limits  may  be. 

Of  these  cycles  only  one  bears  any  indication  of 
probable  authorship.  While  the  composition  of  the 
Towneley  plays  has  been  traced  to  the  cell  of  the 
Augustinian  or  Black  Canons  at  Woodkirk,  and 
while  the  Coventry  Mysteries  have  been  attributed  to 
the  Grey  Friars  of  Coventry,  in  the  Chester  cycle 


*  Vide  Chambers,  II.,  407,  Appendix  X. 

•f-  Schelling  dates  1475.  These  indications  vary  with  different 
authorities.  The  Chester  Manuscript  bears  interesting  com- 
parison with  the  French  My»ter«  du  Vieil  Testament:  Cham- 
bers, II,  409;  Gayley,  Forefathers,  128  teq. 


50  INTRODUCTION 

there  has  been  much  discussion  as  to  whether  or  not 
the  author  was  one  "  Randall  Higgenett,  a  monk  of 
Chester  abbey."  There  is  slight  evidence,  however, 
to  support  his  claim. 

It  will  be  seen  that  despite  the  national  character- 
istics infused  into  the  drama,  the  playwrights  still  re- 
mained in  touch  with  the  Church,  and  continued  to 
trace,  however  freely,  the  same  stories  that  formed 
the  basis  of  the  religious  drama  at  its  beginning. 
While  we  have  a  present-day  drama,  directly  evolved 
from  the  XVth  century  development,  it  was  not  the 
whole  stream  of  dramatic  art  that  turned  into  the 
channels  which  were  to  give  us  Shakespeare;  there 
came  a  period  when  there  were  two  streams  running 
side  by  side — the  modern  drama  as  we  know  it,  and 
the  religious  drama  that  still  continued  its  course  for 
some  time  before  its  decline.  But  there  is  no  question 
that  these  monks,  these  playwrights,  now  handled 
material  for  effect;  they  had  the  sense  of  the  artist, 
and  though  they  borrowed,  in  many  cases  they  im- 
proved upon  the  original;  though  in  other  instances 
there  was  a  sad  falling-off  in  workmanship. 

Much  profit  may  be  obtained  in  studying  a  com- 
parative table  of  the  four  cycles,  which  is  printed  in 
Miss  L.  Toulmin  Smith's  edition  of  the  York  Mys- 
teries.8 At  a  glance  we  see  the  vast  scope  of  this 
panoramic  progress  of  Bible  story,  strangely  inter- 
mingled with  local  color  and  local  allusions.  Some- 
times we  find  an  amalgamation  of  several  plays  into 
one  pageant,  and  we  infer  by  this  that  a  gild,  failing 
to  furnish  its  quota,  had  its  pageant  privileges  an- 
nulled and  its  play  transferred  to  another  gild  that 


INTRODUCTION  51 

could  well  afford  to  present  two  pieces.     Miss  Smith 
writes : 

"  As  business  grew,  a  new  craft  would  spring 
up,  an  old  one  decay  and  become  too  poor  to  pro- 
duce its  play ;  a  new  one  must  take  its  share ;  one 
craft  trenching  on  the  trade  of  another  must 
share  its  burdens;  sometimes  two  or  even  three 
plays  would  be  combined  into  one;  sometimes  a 
play  would  be  laid  aside,  and  the  craft  to  which 
it  had  been  assigned  must  join  in  producing 
some  other." 

In  Coventry,  under  date  1494,  "  it  is  therefore  or- 
dained that  the  Mayor,  and  8  of  his  councel  shall 
have  authority  to  join  all  such  Crafts  to  those  that 
are  overburthened  with  the  said  Pageants,  with  power 
to  levey  penalties  in  case  of  refusal."  In  Coventry, 
in  1523,  one  gild  is  recorded  as  offering  aid  to  an- 
other in  presenting  a  pageant. 

However  these  plays  may  have  been  divided  origi- 
nally, the  ones  extant  show  clearly  that  the  idea  of 
the  dramatist  was  to  produce  something  that  would 
be  actable.  And  there  was  art  in  his  execution ;  no- 
where do  we  see  such  variety  of  poetic  form,  where 
lines  and  rime  schemes  vie  with  each  other  and  are 
consciously  introduced  in  order  to  gain  particular 
effect.  And  though  the  medieval  dramatist  was  still 
a  monk,  oftentimes  he  foreshadowed  Shakespeare  in 
his  wonderful  intermingling  of  the  tragic  and  the 
humorous ;  not  so  subtle,  nor  so  fine,  perhaps,  but 
used  in  a  way  to  reveal  a  due  sense  of  proportion. 


52  INTRODUCTION 

These  English  cycles  show  that  in  many  of  the 
plays  scenes  were  taken  bodily  from  elsewhere,  and 
were  retouched  by  a  newer  hand.  Miss  Smith,  with 
several  of  her  York  plays,  prints  the  Towneley  texts 
covering  the  same  subjects,  and  even  a  cursory  ex- 
amination reveals  convincing  similarities.  Mr.  A. 
W.  Pollard  in  his  edition  of  the  Towneley  Mysteries 
also  calls  attention  to  this  relation  existing  between 
five  plays,  where  the  York  manuscript  served  as  foun- 
dation for  the  Towneley.  For  example,  in  The  De- 
parture of  the  Israelites  from  Egypt  [Y.  XI;  T. 
XIII,  Pharaoh]  the  connection  between  both  cycles 
is  striking: 

Towneley. 

Pharao.     Peas,  of  payn  that  no  man  pas, 

But  kepe  the  course  that  I  commaunde, 
And  take  good  hede  of  hym  that  has 

Youre   helthe   alle   holy   in   hys   hande; 
For  kyng  Pharro  my  fader  was, 

And  led  thys  lordshyp  of  thys  land; 
I  am  hys  hayre  as  age  wylle  has, 

Euer  in  stede  to  styr  or  stand. 

York. 

1  Rex.      O  pees,  I  bidde  that  noman  passe, 

But  kepe  the  cours  that  I  commaunde, 
And  take  gud  heede  to  hym  that  hasse 

Youre  liff  all  haly  in  his  hande. 
Kyng  Pharo  my  fadir  was, 

And  led  the  lordshippe  of  this  lande, 
I  am  hys  hayre  as  elde  will  asse, 

Euere  in  his  steede  to  styrre  and  stande. 


INTRODUCTION  58 

Again : 

Towneley. 

Primus  Miles.       A,  my  lord ! 

Pharao.  haghe ! 

Secundus  Miles.  Grete  pestelence  is  comyn ; 

It  is  like  ful  long  to  last. 
Pharao.  In  the  dwilys  name! 

Then  is  oure  pride  ouer  past. 

York. 

1  Egip.     My  lorde,  grete  pestelence 

Is  like  ful  lange  to  last. 
Rex.  Owe!  come  that  in  oure  presence? 

Than  is  oure  pride  al  past. 

This  comparison  is  further  illustrated  by  The  Har- 
rowing of  Hell,  which  is  imbedded  in  the  Resurrec- 
tion of  the  Coventry  cycle.  Turning  to  the  Chester 
plays,  evidence  of  similarity  with  the  Towneley  manu- 
script is  likewise  illustrated  by  Mr.  Pollard  in  the 
following : 

Towneley. 

Erthly  man,  that  I  haue  wroght, 

Wightly  wake,  and  slepe  thou  noght! 
With  bytter  bayll  I  haue  the  boght, 

To  make  the  fre; 
Into  this  dongeon  depe  I  soght 
And  all  for  luf  of  the. 

Chester. 

Eirthly  man  that  I  have  wroughte, 
Awake  out  of  thy  slepe; 


54  INTRODUCTION 

Earthly  man,  that  I  haue  wroght, 

Of  me  thou  have  no  kepe. 
From  heaven  man's  soule  I  soughte 

Into  a  dongion  depe 
My  dere  lemon  from  thense  I  broughte 

For  ruthe  of  her  I  weepe. 

Thomas  Wright,  editor  of  the  Chester  cycle,  sup- 
ports Collier  (Hist.  Eng.  Dram.  Poet.),  who  calls 
attention  to  a  partial  resemblance  between  the  Ches- 
ter plays  and  the  French  Mysteries.  The  two  French 
pieces  mentioned  as  typical  examples  of  the  transi- 
tion period  have  their  counterpart  in  The  Creation 
(T.I.)  [Adam]  and  The  Crucifixion  (T.  XXIII) 
[Resurrection].  A  glimpse  into  this  comparative 
work  will  justify  the  assertion  that  individual- 
ity to  the  XVth  century  playwright  meant  the 
individual  stamp  on  all  material  whether  old  or  new, 
rather  than  the  creation  each  time  of  new  plots 
and  new  situations.  It  likewise  shows  that,  from  the 
constructive  side,  one  may  trace,  in  the  partiality  to 
particular  metres,  the  hand  of  the  individual  crafts- 
man through  many  plays,  and  Mr.  Pollard  has 
applied  this  analysis  in  the  case  of  what  he  calls  the 
"  one  real  genius  "  of  the  Towneley  cycle. 

M.  de  Julleville  in  his  illuminating  work  on  Les 
Mysteres,  in  dealing  with  the  characteristics  of  the 
French  plays,  writes  that  the  authors  probably  real- 
ized the  profound  unity  of  their  subject,  and  some- 
times were  successful  in  sustaining  it ;  but  under  the 
multiplicity  of  details  more  often  was  the  unity  lost, 
and  for  this  reason  it  was  easier  for  the  later  dra- 


INTRODUCTION  55 

matic  tinker  to  amalgamate  plays  into  immense  cycles. 
Wherever  the  dramatist  could,  he  introduced  his  local 
studies  and  gave  to  them  his  own  individual  touch; 
for,  as  the  same  writer  says,  the  medieval  public  en- 
joyed tracing  in  the  characters  before  them  the 
language,  habits,  and  sentiments  of  their  neigh- 
bors. The  tragic,  pathetic,  idyllic,  comic,  realistic, 
and  satiric  spoken  of  by  John  Addington  Symonds 
(Shakespeare's  Predeces.  in  Eng.  Dram.)  are  all  im- 
portant elements  in  the  Mysteries;  the  dramatist 
becomes  human  in  a  free  atmosphere. 

One  has  but  to  read  the  dialogue  that  passes  be- 
tween Abraham  and  Isaac  to  understand  the  effect 
it  must  have  had  upon  a  medieval  audience,  witnessing 
a  father  about  to  slay  his  son.  Note  this  from  the 
Chester  manuscript  (7F.  The  Sacrifice  of  Isaac)  : 

Abraham.      O!  comelye  creature,  but  I  thee  kille, 
I  greve  my  God,  and  that  full  ylle; 
I  maye  not  worke  againste  his  will, 

But  ever  obediente  be. 
O!  Isaake,  sonne,  to  thee  I  saie, 
God  hath  commaunded  me  to  daye 
Sacrifice,  this  is  no  naye, 

To  make  of  thy  bodye. 

Isaake.          Is  yt  Godes  will  I  shalbe  slayne? 
Abraham.      Yea,  sonne,  it  is  not  for  to  leane; 
To  his  byddinge  I  wilbe  bayne, 

And  ever  to  hym  pleasinge. 
But  that  I  do  this  dilfull  deede, 
My  Lorde  will  not  quite  me  in  my  nede. 
Isaake.    Marye,  father,  God  forbydde. 


56  INTRODUCTION 

But  you  doe  your  offeringe! 
Father,  at  home  your  sonnes  you  shall  fynde, 
That  you  must  love  by  course  of  kinde : 
Be  I  onste  out  of  your  mynde, 

Your  sorowe  male  sone  cease; 
But  yet  you  muste  do  Godes  byddinge. 
Father,  tell  my  mother  for  no  thinge. 

Here  we  find  the  Bible  situation,  embellished  with 
that  simplicity  which  is  art  because  it  is  simple.  The 
pathos  increases  in  the  scene  preceding  the  one  where 
the  angel  stays  the  hand  of  Abraham : 

Abraham.     Fare  well,  my  sweete  sonne  of  grace! 

Here  let  Isaake  kneele  downe  and  speake. 
Isaake.        I  praye  you,  father,  torne  downe  my  face 
A  littill,  while  you  have  space, 

For  I  am  full  sore  adreade. 
Abraham.  To  doe  this  deed  I  am  sorye. 
Isaake.        Yea,  Lorde,  to  thee  I  call  and  crye, 
Of  my  soule  thou  have  mercye, 
Hartelye  I  thee  praie! 


Isaake.        A !  mercye,  father,  why  tarye  you  soe? 
Smyte  of  my  head,  and  let  me  goe. 
I  praye  you  rydd  me  of  my  woe, 

For  nowe  I  take  my  leve. 

Abraham.  Ah,  sonne !  my  harte  will  breake  in  three, 
To  heare  thee  speake  such  wordes  to  me. 
Jesu!  on  me  thou  have  pittye, 
That  I  have  moste  in  mynde. 


INTRODUCTION  57 

We  can  further  imagine  the  enjoyment  of  that  hu- 
mor which  smacked  of  village  gossip  in  such  scenes  as 
the  one  in  which  Noah,  just  before  the  flood,  tries  to 
get  his  wife  on  board  the, Ark.  She  refuses  to  stir 
unless  her  companions  may  come  with  her.  Our  read- 
ing is  from  Chester  III.,  Noah's  Flood: 

Noye.  Good  wyffe,  doe  nowe  as  I  thee  bydde. 

Noyes  Wiffe.  Be  Christe !  not  or  I  see  more  neede, 
Though  thou  stande  all  daye  and  stare. 

Noah  apostrophizes  on  the  ways  of  women;  the 
medieval  dramatists  take  especial  delight  in  depict- 
ing for  the  benefit  of  young  men  the  direful  results  of 
married  life.  Noah  calls  aloud : 

For  all  the  wene  that  thou  arte  maister, 
And  soe  thou  arte,  by  Sante  John ! 

Then  after  discussing  the  ways  and  means  of  get- 
ting her  aboard,  the  family  group  decide  to  use  force : 

Noye.    Come  in,  wiffe,  in  twentye  devilles  waye ! 

Or  elles  stand  there  without. 
Cam.      Shall  we  all  feche  her  in? 
Noye.    Yea,  sonnes,  in  Christe  blessinge  and  myne! 
I  woulde  you  hied  you  betyme, 

For  of  this  flude  I  am  in  doubte. 
.  .  •  .  . 

Jeffatte.     Mother,  we  praye  you  all  together, 

For  we  are  heare,  youer  owne  childer, 
Come  into  the  shippe  for  feare  of  the 
weither, 


38  INTRODUCTION 

For  his  love  that  you  boughtc ! 
Noyes  Wiffe.  That  will  I  not,  for  all  youer  call. 

But  I  have  my  gossippes  all. 
Sem.  In  faith,  mother,  yett  you  shalle, 

Wheither  thou  wylte  or  note  [not] . 
Noye.  Welckome,  wiffe,  into  this  botte. 
Noyes  Wiffe.  Have  thou  that  for  thy  note ! 
Noye.    Ha !  ha !  marye,  this  is  hotte ! 

The  realism  that  marks  the  French  play  of  the 
Resurrection  of  the  XHIth  century  is  repeated  with 
great  similarity  in  The  Crucifixion  of  the  Towneley 
cycle,  (XXIII)  where  Longeus  pierces  Jesus  with 
his  knight's  spear,  and  also  where  Joseph  and  Nico- 
demus  take  the  body  from  the  Cross : 

Joseph.     Nychodeme,  com  me  furthe  withe, 
ffor  I  myself  shallebe  the  smythe 
The  nales  out  for  to  dray. 

The  strange  introduction  of  a  humor  that  is  coarse 
and  cruel,  yet  probably  characteristically  local  and 
realistic,  if  it  were  possible  to  forget  that  it  was 
spoken  during  the  Crucifixion,  is  found  in  the  scene 
with  Christ's  torturers,  who  fight  over  their  share  in 
the  work.  In  that  same  play  there  is  the  scene  with 
John  and  Mary  before  the  Cross,  where  the  uncon- 
trollable grief  of  the  mother  for  her  "  swete  son  "  re- 
minds one  forcibly  of  the  German  Marieriklagen  of 
the  latter  part  of  the  XHIth  century.  Here  the  uni- 
versal human  asserts  itself  over  the  religious  signifi- 
cance; the  human  mother  cries  aloud  with  a  human 


INTRODUCTION  59 

grief,  and  the  medieval  audiences  shed  tears  in  sym- 
pathy : 

ffestynd  both  handys  and  feete 
with  nalys  fulle  unmete, 
his  woundes  wryngyng  wete, 
Alas,  my  childe,  for  care ! 

A  student  of  these  Mysteries  will  find  them  any- 
thing but  dull  reading.  They  are  full  of  a  surpris- 
ing freshness  that  blossoms  forth  when  least  ex- 
pected. There  is  no  more  delightful  dialogue  than 
that  found  in  the  Towneley  play  of  The  Shepherds 
(XII  [2],  XIII  [2]),  where  the  atmosphere  is  as 
complete,  according  to  our  views,  as  any  modern 
dramatist  could  have  made  it.  These  Mysteries  and 
Miracles  afford  us  a  rich  field  for  watching  the  per- 
sonality assert  itself,  irrespective  of  any  religious 
limitations. 

One  finds  the  village  boy  as  menial  to  Cain;  one 
notes  God  vowing  "  in  the  name  of  the  holy  gast " ; 
the  medieval  dramatist  did  not  care  for  accuracies, 
and  he  sought  effect  through  means  close  to  hand  and 
familiar  to  his  time.  Considering  the  Towneley  plays 
alone,  a  few  local  allusions  are  found  in  the  following : 

In  The  Prophets  (T.  VII),  David  says,  "  Shalle  I 
now  syng  you  a  fytt,  Withe  my  mynstrelsy  " ;  on 
coming  out  of  the  Ark  (T.  Ill),  Noah  discovers 
castles  and  towns  swept  away;  the  Shepherds,  on 
hearing  the  angel's  song  announcing  the  birth,  try  to 
imitate  it  (T.  XII)  : 

ijus  pastor.     Now,  by  god  that  me  boght  |  it  was  a 
mery  song; 


60  INTRODUCTION 

I  dar  say  that  he  broght   |   foure  & 
twenty  to  a  long. 

And  when  the  Child  is  seen,  the  Shepherds  greet  him 
as  Duke  and  Knight.  One  speech  in  the  second  Shep- 
herd's play  is  a  dissertation  on  the  Shepherd's  lot — 
"  no  wonder  that  [they]  are  poor,  they  are  so  op- 
pressed by  the  gentle  folk."  There  are  also  seen 
the  elements  of  a  -farce  in  the  character  Mak,  who 
steals  a  sheep  from  the  Shepherds.*  Christ  is  called 
King  of  "  towne  and  towre  " — and  Herod  wonders 
"who  the  dewill  made  hym  Knyght."  Truly  the 
dramatist  was  a  representative  of  his  time,  and  no 
richer  picture  could  be  drawn  than  from  these  stray 
passages  that  reveal  all  but  the  sweep  of  life  itself, 
the  whole  husk  with  a  goodly  part  of  the  spirit  in  it. 

The  early  Church  Fathers  sought  to  give  the  con- 
gregation a  picture,  and  the  later  drama  retained 
this  idea;  it  was  a  panorama,  to  be  unfolded  in  a 
public  square,  and  to  be  spoken  by  actors  who  were 
paid  for  their  services.  It  has  been  said  that  to  the 
XVth  century  audience  the  Ark  was  as  real  as  are  the 
caravels  of  Columbus  to  us  of  the  present  time.  The 
theory  that  drama  is  a  reflex  of  life  is  well  sup- 
ported by  the  fact  that  the  atmosphere  of  a  life  over 
four  hundred  years  ago  is  still  mirrored  in  the  words 
that  brought  forth  actual  tears  and  laughter  from 
the  motley  medieval  crowd. 

The  presentation  of  the  English  Mysteries  can 
only  be  pictured  by  taking  here  and  there  whatever 
presents  itself,  and  piecing  together  so  as  to  gain 

*  This  is  one  of  the  first  examples  of  a  farce  in  early  Eng- 
lish literature. 


INTRODUCTION  6l 

effect.  Much  in  these  plays  was  left  to  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  spectators,  the  merest  suggestion  cover- 
ing an  entire  scene.  The  word  pageant,  which  in  the 
Coventry  manuscript  has  been  spelt  in  about  twenty- 
three  different  ways,  was  applied  to  the  structure 
which  moved  from  street  to  street,  as  well  as  to  the 
play  itself.  Archdeacon  Rogers  (d.  1595),  who  wit- 
nessed a  play  at  Chester,  thus  describes  a  pageant: 

"  The  maner  of  these  plays  weare,  every  com- 
pany had  his  paigant,  or  p'te,  wch  paigants  weare 
a  high  scafolde  w'th  2  rowmes,  a  higher  and  lower, 
upon  4  wheeles.  In  the  lower  they  apparrelled 
themselves,  and  in  the  higher  rowme  they  played, 
beinge  all  open  on  the  tope,  that  all  behoulders 
might  heare  and  see  them.  The  places  where  they 
played  them  were  in  every  streete.  They  began 
at  the  Abay  gates,  and  when  the  first  paigante 
was  played,  it  was  wheeled  to  the  highe  crosse  be- 
for  the  Mayor,  and  so  to  every  streete,  and  soe 
every  streete  had  a  paigant  playinge  before  them 
at  one  time,  till  all  the  paigantes  for  the  day  ap- 
poynted  was  neere  ended,  worde  was  broughte 
from  streete  to  streete  that  soe  they  mighte  come 
in  place  thereof,  exceedinge  orderlye,  and  all  the 
streetes  have  their  paigantes  afore  them  all  at 
one  time  playeinge  togeather;  to  se  w'ch  playes 
was  great  resorte,  and  also  scafoldes  and  stages 
made  in  the  streetes  in  those  places  where  they 
determined  to  playe  theire  paigantes." 

The  following  item  of  expense  in  the  Coventry  rec- 
ords is  of  interest : 


62  INTRODUCTION 

1450 — Spend  to  bryng  the  pagent  in  to  gosford 
stret vd 

The  gilds  of  the  Cappers  and  the  Drapers  each 
employed  twenty  men  to  drag  their  pageants,  which 
have  been  compared  with  the  floats  used  annually  dur- 
ing the  New  Orleans  Mardi  Gras  festivities.  Some 
accounts  show  that  to  accommodate  spectators  at 
Coventry  and  Chester,  stages  upon  wheels  were 
pulled  near  the  pageant  for  special  benefit  and  better 
view. 

The  French  mansions  or  stations  were  large  enough 
to  show  much  detail.  At  Valenciennes,  in  1547,  a 
row1  of  columns  supported  Paradise ;  Nazareth  was  a 
wall  pierced  by  a  door  between  two  Doric  pillars; 
Jerusalem  was  shown  in  the  same  way.  A  pavilion, 
with  columns,  a  throne,  and  the  figure  of  a  King, 
represented  the  palace,  while  a  square  basin  holding 
water  was  the  sea.  So  simple  were  these  details  and 
yet  withal  so  necessary  to  correct  understanding  !* 

The  actors  in  England  were  usually  members  of 
the  gilds ;  clerics  in  lower  orders  of  the  Church  some- 
times participated.  It  is  curious  to  notice  how  the 
roles  in  the  Biblical  story  were  apportioned  accord- 
ing to  a  peculiar  harmony  existing  between  the  part 
itself  and  the  trade  of  the  individual.  In  the  time 
of  the  Mayoralty  of  William  Alne,  of  York,  in  the 
third  year  of  the  reign  of  Henry  V.,  1415,  according 
to  a  list  compiled  by  the  town  clerk,  one  Roger  Bur- 
ton (the  list  is  quoted  in  Miss  Smith's  York  Myster- 

*An  excellent  cut  of  this  is  reproduced  in  Gayley,  Fore- 
fathers, op.  p.  216. 


INTRODUCTION  63 

ies),  the  Plasterers  were  assigned  the  Creation  of 
the  World,  the  Shipwrights  were  the  builders  of  the 
Ark,  the  Chandlers  were  the  Shepherds  who  carried 
the  Star,  and  further  down  the  list  we  find  the 
butchers  assisting  in  the  Crucifixion. 

The  actor's  art  has  now  become  a  paying  one.  Does 
not  God  receive  ij8  and  Pilate  receive  4d  for  playing 
each  his  part? 

Again  we  note  "It*  payd  to  God,  xxa;"  "If 
payed  to  the  mynstrells ; "  and  "  It'  paide  to  the 
sprytt  of  god.  .    .  xvjd."   More  often  do  we  hear  in 
the  Coventry  records  of  the  feasts  of  the  actor. 
In  1490: 

Itm  for  IX  galons  of  Ale xviijd 

Itm  for  a  Rybbe  of  befe  &  j  gose vjd 

Again  in  another  place  Pilate  is  allowed  wine  while 
performing,  and  the  pageant  drivers  are  given  drink 
to  cheer  them  on  the  road. 

In  the  Xlllth  and  XlVth  centuries  the  French 
actors  were  furnished  by  the  puys  and  later  by  the 
confreries.  Before  the  XVth  century  organized  com- 
panies were  formed,  and  those  who  took  part  in  the 
Mysteries  were  bound  by  special  contract.  A  num- 
ber of  rehearsals  were  given  before  the  public  per- 
formance. On  the  appointed  day  the  actors  re- 
ported at  seven  in  the  morning ;  some  of  the  audience 
arrived  at  four,  so  eager  were  they  for  a  good  place 
near  the  pageant  wagon. 

There  was  a  so-called  cry  at  one  time  in  France, 
an  august  person  whose  object  was  to  beg  citizens 


64  INTRODUCTION 

to  take  part  in  the  coming  play,  and  he  went  about 
in  goodly  procession,  with  trumpeters,  archers,  sol- 
diers, and  heralds.  Even  though  the  drama  had  left 
the  Church,  priests  still  took  important  roles :  among 
notices  of  such  we  are  told  that  in  1409  and  1437  at 
Metz,  a  priest  and  two  curates  acted  the  parts  of 
Christ,  St.  John  and  Judas.  Women  figured  very 
rarely  in  the  English  and  French  presentations. 
Before  1550  France  had  but  three  exceptions,  one 
in  especial  being  in  1468,  when  a  girl  of  eighteen 
appeared  as  St.  Catherine  (2,300  verses)  and  was 
so  appealing  in  her  tender  beauty  as  to  make  a 
young  nobleman  fall  in  love  with  her  and  marry  her. 

The  roles  were  often  long  and  arduous.  Christ, 
in  one  French  play,  had  to  recite  4,000  verses;  in 
1437,  at  Metz,  during  the  Crucifixion  scene,  both 
Christ  and  Judas  were  prostrated  on  account  of  the 
continuous  emotional  strain.  The  Christus  of  the 
latest  performance  of  the  Oberammergau  Passion 
Play  (1900)  has  graphically  described  his  painful 
sensations  while  on  the  Cross. 

The  costumes  used  in  the  early  religious  dramas 
were  nothing  more  than  ecclesiastical  robes,  and  in- 
stances are  known,  even  during  the  advanced  stages 
of  the  XVth  century,  of  the  clergy  lending  their 
vestments  to  the  gild  actors.  But  oftenest  in  Eng- 
land the  expense  of  such  detail  was  charged  to  the 
gild  itself,  and  from  the  old  records  one  is  able  to 
gain  some  definite  knowledge  of  the  theatrical  ward- 
robe. The  Smith's  Company  of  Coventry,  in  1449, 
presenting  the  Trial,  Condemnation,  and  Crucifixion 
of  Christ,  mentioned  among  their  machinery  a  Cross 


INTRODUCTION  65 

and  ropes  with  which  to  draw  it  up,  besides  gallows 
and  a  scaffold;  the  Cross  was  often  painted  in  gold. 
Among  the  dresses  we  note  black  buckram  hung  with 
nails  and  dice  for  the  tormentors,  and  a  white  leather 
coat  for  God: 

God  (Jesus) — Coat  of  skin,  sometimes  painted 
and  gilded.  False  hair  powdered  in  gold. 

Spirit  of  God  (as  distinct  from  God — probably 
the  Holy  Ghost?) — A  coat  of  buckram,  very 
likely  painted. 

Caiaphas  and  Annas — Robes  of  Christian  Bishops ; 
with  hoods  (1486)  made  of  red  (1487)  ;  wear- 
ing "  myttyr  "  painted  with  "  gold  foyle  & 
sylv  foyle." 

Herod — A  mask,  painted.  Satin  and  blue  "  boker- 
am."  Sceptre  and  helmet  of  gold  and  silver 
(1499). 

Judas — Red  hair  and  beard. 

The  Draper's  Pageant  presenting  Doomsday  in 
1534  required  a  barrel  for  the  earthquake,  three 
worlds,  and  "  a  link  to  set  the  world  on  fire  " ;  among 
the  dresses  there  were  "  coats  for  the  black  and  white 
souls,"  but  no  mention  is  made  of  the  costumes  for 
the  "  two  worms  of  conscience  "  that  figure  among 
the  characters. 

The  stage  manager  was  ingenious  in  his  settings 
and  costuming,  seeking  color  and  splendor  in  tinsel, 
such  as  constitute  the  modern  stage  accessories. 
Where  his  mechanical  inventiveness  resulted  in  a  real- 
istic hellmouth,  his  enthusiasm  knew  no  bounds;  nor 


66  INTRODUCTION 

did  he  fail  to  express  his  pleasure  over  the  beauty  of 
Paradise,  such  as  is  described  in  Adam.  "  Behold," 
cries  the  author  of  a  French  Passion  of  1534,  "  here 
is  the  most  beautiful  Paradise  you  have  ever  seen 
or  ever  will  see." 

The  hellmouth  was  a  pit  and  demons  vanished 
therein  from  among  the  audience,  through  the  me- 
chanical jaws  of  a  wonderfully  constructed  dragon, 
from  whose  depths  groans  and  even  flames  and  smoke 
would  issue.  These  latter  details  were  regarded 
as  the  acme  of  medieval  scenic  art-  We  read  that 
at  one  performance,  through  carelessness,  the  "  fire- 
works "  went  off  in  hellmouth  before  the  appointed 
time,  creating  consternation  among  the  people. 

All  these  details  appealed  to  a  childlike  simplicity 
that  explains  the  thunder  by  the  pushing  of  a  table 
across  the  floor,  and  believes  the  rain  comes  from  a 
watering-pot  sprinkling  the  world.  These  plays 
were  witnessed  by  royalty,  and  by  all  sorts  and  con- 
ditions of  people,  even  the  wanderer  along  the  road- 
way. We  see  the  crowd  in  Chaucer's  Prologue  to 
the  Canterbury  Tales,  a  crowd  well-nigh  level  as 
regards  intellect,  if  not  alike  as  regards  rank,  and 
all  of  them  capable  of  enjoying  the  same  kind  of 
amusement.  The  elements  that  have  thus  been  de- 
scribed in  detail  brought  this  particular  drama  to  its 
height;  already,  in  the  cycles,  there  were  beginning 
to  be  shown  signs  of  generalizing  rather  than  of  de- 
fining characters. 

Ward  (Eng.  Dram.  Lit.)  claims  that  while  the 
Morality  plays  are  not  unconnected  with  the  Miracle 


INTRODUCTION  67 

plays,  their  origin  reaches  farther  back,  even  to  the 
Biblical  abstractions  which  are  in 
THE  MORALITY     themselves  the  very  foundations  of 
AND  the  Christian  worship.    "  It  seems 

EVERYMAN.  probable  that  inasmuch  as  our  lit- 
erature had  more  distinctly  than 
that  of  almost  any  other  modern  nation  a  specifi- 
cally Christian  origin,  so  it  was  the  Bible  itself 
which  implanted  in  the  English  mind  its  ineradicable 
love  for  allegory,  and  for  religious  or  moral  allegory 
in  especial."  Ten  Brink  (Hist.  Eng.  Lit.,  tr.  Rob- 
inson) writes:  "The  Moral  plays  owe  their  origin 
to  the  same  spirit  that  introduces  the  so-called  alle- 
gorical tendency  into  religious  literature  and  court 
poetry;  viz.,  to  the  effort  to  illustrate  moral  doc- 
trines and  present  abstract  ideas  in  bodily  form"; 
and  further  adds :  "  The  Mysteries  had  undeniably  a 
great  influence  on  the  formation  of  the  Moral  plays." 
Certain  it  is  that  even  before  the  definite  appear- 
ance of  the  Moralities*  the  way  was  being  prepared 
for  them,  since  we  meet  with  abstractions  in  the  great 
cycles  just  examined ;  Veritas,  Justicia,  Pax,  and  Mis- 
ericordia  appear  in  the  eleventh  Coventry  play  [The 
Salutation  and  Conception],  and  Death  is  introduced 
into  the  same  collection.  It  is  not  to  be  doubted 
that  Catholicism  and  the  pending  Reformation  both 
reached  into  literature  for  some  existent  vehicle  to 
carry  their  polemics,  and  found  none  better  than 
these  Morality  plays. 

*  Vide   Chambers,    II,    chap,    xxiii,    p.    149,    Bibliographical 
Note;  also  ibid,  Appendix  X,  p.  436, 


68  INTRODUCTION 

But  though  religion  fell  back  upon  the  drama  a 
second  time  for  help,  it  was  an  ethical  and  dogmatic 
motive,  rather  than  a  religious  one,  that  fostered  the 
moral  plays ;  and,  besides,  the  people  were  no  longer 
so  submissive  mentally ;  they  were  alive  to  the  value  of 
the  dramatic  impulse,  and  were  thinking  for  them- 
selves. 

Mr.  Pollard,  in  his  interesting  collection  of  speci- 
mens from  the  early  English  drama  (Eng.  Mir.  PL), 
prints  some  passages  from  what  may  be  called  a 
transitional  type,  which  stands  between  the  definite 
Mystery  and  Morality,  but  which  includes  elements 
characteristic  of  all  three  types — Mystery,  Miracle, 
and  Morality.  It  is  entitled  S.  Mary  Magdalene,  and 
is  preserved  in  manuscript  circa  1480-1490.  In  part 
it  adheres  to  the  story  of  Mary's  fall,  and  gives  the 
scene  in  which  Jesus  cleanses  her  of  her  sin ;  it  like- 
wise sounds  the  note  of  boasting,  characteristic  of 
the  heathen  monarch  who,  in  so  many  of  the  plays, 
defies  Christianity;  therein  is  it  purely  Mystery.  On 
the  other  hand,  Mary  is  beset  by  Flesh,  who  sends 
Luxuria  to  tempt  her,  and  lead  her  before  a  galaunt, 
and  Satan  rejoices  over  her  fall;  therein  is  it  mark- 
edly a  Morality.  But  in  the  restoration  of  the  life 
of  a  Queen  and  her  Child,  through  the  assistance  of 
Mary,  it  is  characteristically  a  Miracle,  in  the  sense 
familiar  to  the  student  of  the  French  Miracles  de 
Notre-Dame. 

A  list  of  Morality  plays  would  include,  as  among 
the  most  important,  and  all  of  the  XVth  century: 
The  Castell  of  Perseverance;  Mind,  Witt,  and  Under- 
standing; Mankind  (Humanum  Genus)  ;  Mundus  et 


INTRODUCTION  69 

Infans;  The  Pride  of  Life  (Fragment)  ;  Everyman; 
and  Nature  (by  Henry  Medwall).  Mr.  Pollard 
speaks  of  the  didactic  Moralities,  among  which  may 
be  mentioned  the  following  groups,  enumerated  by 
Miss  Bates : 

(a)  Dealing  with  Temptations  of  Youth:  Hycke- 
Scorner,  printed  circa  1530  (Interlude).     Lusty 
Juventus,  1547-1553.     The  Interlude  of  Youth, 
1553-1558. 

(b)  Written  in  Praise  of  Learning:     The  Nature 
of  The  Four  Elements   (Interlude),   1510-1570. 
Wyt  and  Science  (by  John  Redford,  circa  1545). 

The  very  names  themselves  reveal  the  character  of 
these  dramas.  Of  them  all,  none  would  approach  in 
completeness  and  unity  of  development,  the  Morality 
play  of  Everyman.  We  find  abstractions  walking 
across  the  narrow  pageants,  and  rolling  forth  long 
disquisitions  on  the  evils  of  life  of  which  they  them- 
selves are  the  symbolical  types.  Castles  are  besieged 
by  good  and  by  evil  angels;  Humanum  Genus  falls 
beneath  the  wiles  of  Luxuria  in  female  attire,  and  is 
saved  therefrom  by  Confession.  One  of  the  closing 
scenes  in  the  Castell  of  Perseverance  is  that  in  which 
Humanum  Genus  (Mankind)  is  debated  over  in 
heaven  by  Mifericordia  and  Pax,  who  plead  for  him, 
and  Veritas  and  Justitia  against  him,  with  the  final 
salvation  of  Humanum  Genus  through  the  m«rcy  of 
Pater  sedens  in  trono.  The  dramatist,  with  a  broad 
sweep  similar  to  that  with  which  the  Miracle  play- 
wright reviewed  the  entire  Bible  history  from  the 
creation  to  the  judgment,  carried  man  from  infancy 


70  INTRODUCTION 

to  old  age ;  brought  Folly,  Lust,  Wantonness  before 
him ;  had  Pity,  Misery,  Compassion,  Repentance,  and 
Confession  save  him,  all  in  the  semblance  of  person- 
alities talking  in  a  manner  which  the  unskilled  art  of 
the  writer  could  not  save  from  dulness  or  from 
verbosity. 

The  Castell  of  Perseverance  (middle  of  the  reign 
of  Henry  VI)  is  one  of  the  oldest  Moralities  extant. 
However,  Miss  Smith,  in  the  preface  to  her  York 
Mysteries,  mentions  a  play  that  antedates  this  one 
considerably.  "  Once  on  a  time,"  runs  the  preamble 
to  the  ordinances  of  the  Gild  of  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
"  a  play  setting  forth  the  goodness  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer  was  played  in  the  city  of  York;  in  which 
play  all  manner  of  vices  and  sins  were  held  up  to 
scorn,  and  the  virtues  were  held  up  to  praise."  Miss 
Smith  likewise  notes  that  a  Creed  Play  was  performed 
in  York  "about  Lammastide  every  tenth  year,  and 
five  such  performances,  beginning  in  1483,*  are  re- 
corded." Still  another  play,  the  manuscript  of 
which  is  lost,  is  mentioned  as  being  given  at  York  in 
1558  and  1572.  Mr.  Pollard  writes :  "  In  that  year, 
however,  Grindal  was  Archbishop  of  York,  and  de- 
manded that  a  copy  of  the  play  should  be  submitted 
to  him.  The  copy  was  sent,  and  its  return  requested 
three  years  later,  but  thenceforward  we  hear  of  it 
no  more.  The  loss  is  irreparable,  for  this  is  the 
earliest  Morality  play  of  which  we  have  any  mention, 
and  must  have  been  written  nearly  a  century  before 
the  Castell  of  Perseverance." 

*  Chambers    (II,    120)    says,    "bequeathed    to   the    gild    of 
Corpus  Christi  in  1446";  see  also  II,  154, 


INTRODUCTION  71 

The  Moralities  were  used  as  a  mode  of  expression, 
just  as  the  didactic  method  distinguished  the  Socratic 
school.  Even  as  in  Everyman,  there  is  detected  a 
strong  note  of  Catholicism,  so  in  later  plays  the  cause 
of  Protestantism  was  as  strongly  argued.  Not  only 
did  obscure  writers  turn  their  attention  toward  this 
form  of  literary  dramatic  expression,  but  acknowl- 
edged poets  also,  such  as  John  Skelton,  with  his 
Magnyfycence,  adopted  it  also.  The  young  Shake- 
speare himself  became  familiar  with  the  later-day 
Moralities,  and  perhaps  gained  from  them  the  lesson 
that,  after  all,  drama  represents  a  struggle  of  soul; 
he  realized  this  when  he  became  the  dramatic  poet — 
and  put  his  vivid  figures  on  the  stage,  producing  in 
them,  by  the  sheer  force  of  his  art  and  craftsmanship 
not  so  much  the  struggle  of  a  world-soul  as  the  strug- 
gle of  the  individual  "  against  a  sea  of  troubles." 

The  presentation  of  the  Morality  plays  was  al- 
most similar  to  that  of  the  Mysteries.  Pageants  were 
used,  except  in  those  cases  where  the  special  purpose 
was  to  entertain  a  noble  company  in  a  banquet-hall. 
Then  a  short  play  was  selected  and  a  strolling  com- 
pany was  hired  to  give  it.  Over  their  wine,  the 
goodly  assemblage  applauded  the  slender  cast,  and 
because  of  the  fact  that  these  plays  were  acted  dur- 
ing the  course  of  the  meal  they  derived  the  name, 
interlude. 

In  Sharp's  book  on  Coventry  [Disser.  on  the  Pag. 
of  Cou.],  a  cut  accompanies  the  manuscript  of  the 
Castell  of  Perseverance,  representing  a  castle.  The 
following  directions  which  accompany  the  drawing 
are  quoted  in  Pollard:* 

*  Vide  Chambers,  II,  Appendix  X,  437. 


72  INTRODUCTION 


is  the  watyre  a  bowte  the  place,  if  any 
dyche  may  be  mad  ther  it  schal  be  pleyed  ;  or  ellys 
that  it  be  strongly  barryd  al  a  bowte  :  &  lete  nowth 
over  many  stytelerys  (marshalmen?)  be  withinne 
the  plase." 

Over  the  Castle  :  "  This  is  the  castel  of  persever- 
anse  that  stondyth  in  the  myddys  of  the  place  ;  but 
lete  no  men  sytt  ther  for  lettynge  of  syt,  for  ther 
schal  be  the  best  of  al." 

Beneath  the  Castle  is  a  Bed  :  "  Mankynde  is  bed 
schal  be  under  the  castel,  &  ther  schal  the  sowle  lye 
under  the  bed  tyl  he  shal  ryse  &  pleye." 

On  each  side  of  the  Castle  :  "  Coveytyse  copbord 
schal  be  at  the  ende  of  the  castel,  be  the  beddys 
feet." 

Five  stations  for  scaffolds  are  indicated: 
"  Sowth,  Caro  skaffold  —  West,  Mundus  skaffold  — 
Northe,  Belyal  skaffold  —  North  East,  Coveytyse 
skaffold  —  Est,  deus  skaffold."  ' 

These  directions  were  given  to  actors  :  "&  he  that 
echal  pley  belyal,  loke  that  he  have  gunne  powder 
brennyng  in  pypys  in  his  hands  and  in  his  ers,  etc., 
whanne  he  gothe  to  batayle.  .  .  .  the  iiij  dowters 
schul  be  clad  in  mentelys,  Mercy  in  wyth,  ryth- 
wysnesse  in  red  al  togedyr,  Trewthe  in  sad  grene, 
&  Pes  al  in  blake,  and  they  schul  pleye  in  the  place 
al  to  gedyr  tyl  they  brynge  up  the  sowle." 

Collier  (Hist.  Dram.  Poet.)  has  gathered  together 
some   scattered   details    regarding   the  presentation 


INTRODUCTION  73 

of  these  plays.  We  learn  that  Vice,  the  companion 
of  the  Devil,  wore  a  long  coat,  and  was  often  given 
a  dagger  cut  from  a  lath.  Of  this  character  much  is 
made;  he  is  the  precursor  of  the  court  jester  and  the 
familiar  Fool  of  Shakespeare.  In  Moral,  Will,  and 
Understanding,  Wisdom  is  clad  in  "  a  rich  purple 
cloth  of  gold,"  and  wears  "  a  beard  of  gold,"  a 
"  cheveler,"  and  "  a  rich  imperial  crown  thereupon, 
set  with  precious  stones — in  his  left  hand  a  ball  of 
gold  with  a  cross,  and  in  his  right  hand  a  regal 
sceptre."  Anima  enters  "  as  a  maid,  in  a  white  cloth 
of  gold,  gaily  purfled  with  minever,  a  mantle  of 
black  thereupon,  a  cheveler  like  to  Wisdom,  with  a 
rich  chaplet  laced  behind,  hanging  down  with  two 
knots  of  gold  and  side  tassels." 
Mr-  Pollard  writes: 

"  In  one  part  of  the  play  a  procession  was 
formed  of  the  Five  Wyttes  (or,  as  we  should  say, 
•jive  senses')  as  *  five  vyrgynes,  with  kertyllys  and 
mantelys,  and  chevelers  and  chappelettes,'  singing 
an  anthem,  *  and  they  goyng  before,  Anima  next, 
and  her  f olowynge  Wysdom,  and  after  hym  Mynde, 
Wyll,  and  Undyrstondynge,  all  iii  in  wyght  cloth 
of  golde,  cheveleryde  and  crestyde  in  sute' ;  and  in 
another  place  there  enters  a  dumb  show  of  '  six 
dysgysyde  in  the  sute  of  Mynde,  namely,  Indigna- 
tion, Sturdiness,  Malice,  Hastiness,  Revenge  (or 
Wreche),  and  Discord,  '  with  rede  berdes  and  lyons 
rampaunt  on  here  crestes  and  yche  a  warder  in 
his  honde.'  " 

With  the  exception  of  Everyman  it  is  conceded 


74  INTRODUCTION 

that  the  Moralities  are  dull,  and  without  sufficient 
action  to  sustain  interest.  Isolated  passages  possess 
considerable  literary  skill.  When  Everyman  first 
meets  with  Dethe,  there  is  a  song  upon  his  lips,  but 
no  words  to  that  effect  are  extant  in  the  text  as  we 
have  it.  Songs,  however,  are  not  foreign  to  the  Mo- 
rality ;  in  the  Protestant  interlude  of  Lusty  Juventus 
occurs  this  happily  conceived  lyric : 

In  a  herber  green,  asleep  where  as  I  lay, 
The  birds  sang  sweet  in  the  middes  of  the  day ; 
I  dreamed  fast  of  mirth  and  play : 

In  youth  is  pleasure,  in  youth  is  pleasure. 

Methought  I  walked  still  to  and  fro, 
And  from  her  company  I  could  not  go : 
But  when  I  waked,  it  was  not  so : 

In  youth  is  pleasure,  in  youth  is  pleasure. 

Therefore  my  heart  is  sorely  pight, 
Of  her  alone  to  have  a  sight, 
Which  is  my  joy  and  hearts  delight: 
In  youth  is  pleasure,  in  youth  is  pleasure. 

It  now  remains  for  us  to  say  a  word  concerning 
Everyman  and  the  purpose  of  this  introduction  has 
been  accomplished.  Ten  Brink  and  Collier  assign 
this  Morality  to  the  reign  of  Edward  IV.  (1461- 
1483)  ;  and  as  to  authenticity,  it  is  regarded  by  some 
as  the  translation  from  a  Dutch  play,  Elckerlijk. 
The  author  of  this  original  has  been  traced  by  Dr. 
Henri  Logeman  to  one  Petrus  Dorlandus  of  Diest, 


INTRODUCTION  75 

who  was  probably  some  theologian,  judging  by  the 
sectarian  spirit  breathed  throughout  the  play.* 

Karl  Goedeke  (Everyman,  Homulus,  und  Hekas- 
tus)  has  traced,  from  the  standpoint  of  international 
literature,  the  direct  forebears  and  contemporaries 
of  Everyman.  It  has  been  shown  by  him  that  the 
central  idea  of  our  Morality — that  of  proving  one's 
friends — is  traceable  in  many  of  the  early  parables 
from  various  countries.  Everyman,  we  find,  was 
itself  appended  to  the  Legenda  Aurea  of  Jacobus 
Voragine  (d.  1298),  writes  Ward,  "  as  a  later  addi- 
tion in  a  brief  form  derived  from  the  Speculum  His- 
toriale,  a  compilation  of  the  XHIth  century  by  Vin- 
centius  of  Beauvais.  But  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
the  story  itself  is  a  parable  narrated  in  the  religious 
romance  of  Barlaam  and  Jehosaphat,  which  has  been 
ascribed  to  John  of  Damascus,  who  died  in  780,  but 
is  now  held  to  be  more  probably  the  work  of  his 
younger  namesake,  afterwards  Patriarch  of  Antioch, 
who  died  in  1090." 

Contemporaneously  with  Everyman  stands  the 
Dutch  Elckerlijk  already  mentioned,  upon  which 
Christian  Ischyrius  (circa  1536)  based  a  Latin  ver- 
sion entitled  Homulus.  This  in  turn  was  translated 
into  Dutch  and  Low  German.  Ward  notes  that 
"  the  publisher  of  the  Latin  Homulus  sought  to  add 
to  its  attraction  by  prefixing  to  it  a  series  of  scenes, 
taken  in  part  from  the  contemporary  Latin  comedy 

*K.  H.  de  Raaf  inverts  the  relation  (Of.  Chambers,  II, 
439;  also  Bibliographical  Note,  Schelling's  Elizabethan  Drama, 
I,  57.  In  Forefathers,  Gayley,  p.  296,  compares  Everyman  in 
severity  of  treatment  with  Samson  Agonistet;  cf.  also  Cham- 
bers, Academy,  April  18,  1903,  p.  394.) 


76  INTRODUCTION 

of  Hekastus,  by  Macropedius,  which  was  independ- 
ently derived  from  the  same  sources  as  Everyman, 
and  which  was  itself  followed  by  a  long  series  of  re- 
productions and  imitations  in  Germany." 

Four  early  imprints  of  Everyman  are  *t  present 
known : 

(a)  A  fragment  consisting  of  two-thirds  of  the 
manuscript,    and   now   preserved   in    the   British 
Museum :    "  Imprynted  at  London  in  Flete  Strete 
by  me  Rycharde  Pynson  prynter  to  the  Kynges 
moost  noble  grace."     [1509-1530.] 

(b)  A  second  fragment  in  the  Bodleian  Library: 
"  Imprynted   at  London  in  Flete   Strete  at   the 
Sygne  of  the  George  by  Rycharde  Pynson  prynter 
unto  the  Kynges  noble  grace."     [1509-1530.] 

(c)  Two  manuscripts  edited  by  John  Skot,  one 
contained  in  the  library  of  a  Mr.  Huth,  and  the 
other  in  the  Salisbury  Cathedral.     [1521-1537.] 

(d)  Another  Skot  edition  in  the  Britwell  Library : 
"  Imprynted  at  London  in  Poules  chyrche  yarde 
by  me  John  Skot."     [C/.  Chambers:  1529-1537.] 

Of  these,  Pynson's  manuscripts  are  the  older.  He 
himself  came  to  England  from  Normandy,  circa 
1490,  and  in  1509  was  appointed  special  printer  to 
King  Henry  VIII. 

Professor  Brander  Matthews,  in  an  article  on  The 
Mediaeval  Drama  (Mod.  PhiloL,  June,  1903)  writes: 

"  The  Morality  was  an  attempt  to  depict  char- 
acter, but  with  the  aid  of  the  primary  colors  only, 


INTRODUCTION  77 

and  with  an  easy  juxtaposition  of  light  and  dark- 
ness. Yet  it  helped  along  the  development  of  the 
drama,  in  that  it  permitted  a  freer  handling  of 
the  action,  since  the  writer  of  Moralities  had  al- 
ways to  invent  his  plots,  whereas  the  maker  of 
Mysteries  had  his  stories  ready-made  to  his  hand; 
the  Morality  was  frankly  fiction,  while  the  Miracle 
play  gave  itself  out  for  fact.  Then  also  the  ten- 
dency seems  irresistible,  for  any  author  who  has 
an  appreciation  of  human  nature,  to  go  speedily 
from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete,  and  to  substi- 
tute for  the  cold  figure  of  Pride  itself  the  fiery 
portrait  of  an  actual  man  who  is  proud." 

And  it  is  in  exactly  this  point  that  Everyman  is 
superior  to  other  Moralities.  Dethe,  Knowlege, 
Good  Deeds,  Everyman — in  fact,  nearly  all  the  ab- 
stractions— assume  individualities  that  make  them 
moving  forces  in  the  drama.  There  are  instances  of 
conventional  forms  throughout  the  play,  and  there 
are  set  speeches  that  show  it  to  be  markedly  a 
"  morall  playe."  There  may  be  an  overweight  in  the 
abstract  group  of  Strengthe,  Beaute,  and  Dyscre- 
cyon,  and  touches  that  are  even  didactic  and  dog- 
matic, but  the  struggle  of  Everyman  is  the  struggle 
of  a  person  as  well  as  of  a  type.  Inasmuch  as  the 
play  represents  a  struggle,  it  is  a  drama,  and  it 
matters  little  if  you  call  it  Hamlet  or  Everyman, 
the  abstract  instantly  becomes  the  concrete,  and  the 
symbolism  of  an  idea  becomes  changed  into  a  human 
fact.9 

MONTEOSE  J.  MOSES. 


HERE  BEGYNNETH  A  TREATYSE  HOW 
THE  HYE  FADER  OF  HEVEN  SENDETH 
DETHE  TO  SOMON  EVERY  CREATURE 
TO  COME  AND  GYVE  A  COUNTE  OF 
THEYR  LYVES  IN  THIS  WORLDE,  AND 
IS  IN  MANER  OF  A  MORALL  PLAYE.1 


DRAMATIS  PERSON^2 

MESSENGER 

GOD 

DETHE 

EVERYMAN 

FELAWSHYP 

KYNDREDE 

GOODES 

GOOD  DEDES 

KNOWL.EGE 

CONFESSYON 

BEAUTE 

STRENGTHE 

DYSCRECYON 

FYVE  WYTTES 

ATTNGELL 

DOCTOUB 


„  \ 


MESSENGER.8 

I    Pray  you  all  gyve  your  audyence 
And  here  this  matter  with  reverence, 
By  fygure  a  morall  playe; 
The  somonynge  of  Everyman  called  it  is, 
That  of  our  lyves  and  endynge  shewes 
How  transytory  we  be  all  daye. 
This  mater  is  wonders  4  precyous, 
But  the  entent  of  it  is  more  gracyous 
And  swete  to  here  awaye. 
The  story  sayth — Man,  in  the  begynnynge 
Loke  well,  and  take  good  heed  to  the  endynge, 
Be  you  never  so  gay ; 

Ye  thynke  synne  in  the  begynnynge  full  swete, 
Whiche  in  the  ende  causeth  the  soule  to  wepe, 
Whan  the  body  lyeth  in  claye. 
Here  shall  you  se  how  Felawshyp  and  Jolyte,5 
Bothe  Strengthe,  Pleasure,  and  Beaute, 
Wyll  fade  from  the  as  floure  in  Maye ; 
For  ye  shall  here  how  our  heven  kynge 
Calleth  Everyman  to  a  generall  rekenynge. 
Gyve  audyence  and  here  what  he  doth  saye. 


EVERYMAN 

GOD    SPEKETH : 6 

IPerceyve  here  in  my  majeste 
How  that  all  creatures  be  to  me  unkynde, 
Lyvynge  without  drede  in  worldly  prosperyte; 
Of  ghostly  7  syght  the  people  be  so  blynde, 
Drowned  in  synne  they  know  me  not  for  theyr  God ; 
In  worldely  ryches  is  all  theyr  mynde. 
They  fere  not  my  ryghtwysnes,  the  sharpe  rood ; 
My  lawe  that  I  shewed  whan  I  for  them  dyed, 
They  forgete  clene,  and  shedynge  of  my  blode  rede ; 
I  hanged  bytwene  two  it  can  not  be  denyed ; 
To  gete  them  lyf e  I  suffred  to  be  deed ; 
I  heled  theyr  fete,  with  thornes  hurt  was  my  heed. 
I  coude  do  no  more  than  I  dyde  truely, 
And  nowe  I  se  the  people  do  clene  forsake  me : 
They  use  the  seven  deedly  synnes  dampnable, 
As  pryde,  coveytyse,  wrath,  and  lechery, 
Now  in  the  worlde  be  made  commendable. 
And  thus  they  leve  of  aungelles  the  hevenly  company ;  • 
Every  man  lyveth  so  after  his  owne  pleasure, 
And  yet  of  theyr  lyfe  they  be  nothynge  sure. 
I  se  the  more  that  I  them  forbere 
The  worse  they  be  fro  yere  to  yere ; 
All  that  lyveth  appayreth  8  f aste, 
Therfore  I  wyll  in  all  the  haste 
Have  a  rekenynge  of  every  mannes  persone. 

[For 
96 


86  EVERYMAN 

For,  and  I  leve  the  people  thus  alone 

In  theyr  lyfe  and  wycked  tempestes, 

Veryly  they  wyll  become  moche  worse  than  beestes — 

For  now  one  wolde  by  envy  another  up  ete ; 

Charyte  they  do  all  clene  forgete. 

I  hoped  well  that  every  man 

In  my  glory  sholde  make  his  mansyon, 

And  therto  I  had  them  all  electe ; 

But  now  I  se,  lyke  traytours  dejecte, 

They  thanke  me  not  for  the  pleasure  that  I  to  them 

ment, 

Nor  yet  for  theyr  beynge  that  I  them  have  lent. 
I  profered  the  people  grete  multytude  of  mercy, 
And  f ewe  there  be  that  asketh  it  hertly ; 
. .    They  be  so  combred  with  worldly  ryches, 
That  nedes  on  them  I  must  do  justyce, 
On  every  man  lyvynge  without  fere. 
Where  arte  thou,  Deth,  thou  mighty  messengere? 

DETHE. 

Almighty  God,  I  am  here  at  your  wyll, 
Your  commaundement  to  fulfyll. 

GOD. 

Go  thou  to  Everyman, 
And  shewe  hym  in  my  name 
A  pylgrymage  he  must  on  hym  take, 
Whiche  he  in  no  wyse  may  escape ; 
And  that  he  brynge  with  hym  a  sure  reckenynge 
Without  delay  or  ony  taryenge. 

[Dethe 


EVERYMAN  87 

DETHE. 

Lorde,  I  wyll  in  the  worlde  go  renne  9  over  all, 
And  cruelly  out  serche  bothe  grete  and  small. 
Every  man  wyll  I  beset  that  lyveth  beestly 
Out  of  Goddes  lawes,  and  dredeth  not  foly. 
He  that  loveth  rychesse  I  wyll  stryke  with  my  darte, 
His  syght  to  blynde,  and  fro  heven  to  departe, 
Excepte  that  almes  be  his  good  frende, 
In  hell  for  to  dwell,  worlde  without  ende. 
Lo,  yonder  I  se  Everyman  walkynge ; 
Full  lytell  he  thynketh  on  my  comynge! 
His  mynde  is  on  fleshely  lusts  and  his  treasure; 
And  grete  payne  it  shall  cause  hym  to  endure 
Before  the  Lorde,  heven  kynge.10 
Everyman,  stande  styll.     Whyder  arte  thou  goynge 
Thus  gayly  ?  hast  thou  thy  Maker  f orgete  ? 

EVERYMAN. 

Why  askest  "  thou? 
Woldest  thou  wete  [know]  ? 

DETHE. 

Ye,  syr,  I  wyll  shewe  you: 
In  grete  haste  I  am  sende  to  the 
Fro  God,  out  of  his  mageste. 


EVERYMAN. 
What  sente  to  me? 


[Dethe 


88  EVERYMAN 

DETHE. 

Ye,  certaynly. 

Thoughe  thou  have  forgete  hym  here, 
He  thynketh  on  the  in  the  hevenly  spere, 
As,  or  we  departe,  thou  shalt  knowe. 

EVERYMAN. 

What  desyreth  God  of  me? 
DETHE. 

That  shall  I  shewe  the: 
A  rekenynge  he  wyll  nedes  have 
Without  ony  lenger  respyte. 

EVERYMAN. 

To  gyve  a   rekenynge  longer  layser    [leisure]    I 

crave ; 
This  blynde  mater  troubleth  by  wytte. 

DETHE. 

On  the  thou  must  take  a  longe  journey, 
Therfore  thy  boke  of  counte  with  the  thou  brynge, 
For,  tourne  agayne  thou  can  not  by  no  waye ; 
And  loke  thou  be  sure  of  thy  rekenynge, 
For  before  God  thou  shalte  answere  and  shewe 
Thy  many  badde  dedes  and  good  but  a  fewe, 
How  thou  hast  spente  thy  lyfe,  and  in  what  wyse 
Before  the  chefe  lorde  of  paradyse. 
Have  ado  12  we  were  in  that  waye, 
For  wete  [know]  thou  well,  thou  shalte  make  none 
attournay. 

[Everyman 


EVERYMAN  89 

EVERYMAN. 

Full  unredy  I  am  suche  rekenynge  to  gyve. 
I  knowe  the  not!    What  messenger  arte  thou? 

DETHE. 

I  am  Dethe,  that  no  man  dredeth. 
For  every  man  I  reste  13  and  no  man  spareth, 
For  it  is  Goddes  commaundment 
That  all  to  me  sholde  be  obedyent. 

EVERYMAN. 

O  Dethe,   thou   comest  whan  I  had  the  leest  in 

mynde ! 

In  thy  power  it  lyeth  me  to  save ; 
Yet  of  my  good  wyl  I  gyve  the,  yf  thou  wyl  be  kynde, 
Ye,  a  thousande  pounde  shalte  thou  have, 
And  u  dyfferre  this  mater  tyll  another  daye. 

DETHE. 

Everyman,  it  may  not  be  by  no  waye ; 15 
I  set  not  by  golde,  sylver,  nor  rychesse, 
Ne  by  pope,  emperour,  kynge,  duke,  ne  prynces; 
For,  and  I  wolde  receyve  gyftes  grete, 
All  the  worlde  I  myght  gete ; 
But  my  custome  is  clene  contrary. 
I  gyve  the  no  respyte ;  come  hens  and  not  tary. 

[Everyman 


90  EVERYMAN 

EVERYMAN. 

Alas!  shall  I  have  no  lenger  respyte? 
I  may  say,  Dethe  gyveth  no  warnynge. 
To  thynke  on  the  it  maketh  my  herte  seke,18 
For  all  unredy  is  my  boke  of  rekenynge. 
But,17  xn  yere  and  I  myght  have  abydynge,18 
My  countynge  boke  I  wolde  make  so  clere, 
That  my  rekenynge  I  sholde  not  nede  to  fere. 
Wherfore,  Dethe,  I  praye  the,  for  Goddes  mercy, 
Spare  me  tyll  I  be  provyded  of  remedy. 

DETHE. 

The  avayleth  not  to  crye,  wepe,  and  praye, 
But  hast  [haste]  the  lyghtly  that  thou  were  gone  this 

journaye, 

And  preve  [prove]  thy  f rendes,  yf  thou  can ; 
For,  wete   [know]    thou  well,  the  tyde  abydeth  no 

man, 

And  in  the  worlde  eche  lyvynge  creature 
For  Adams  synne  must  dye  of  nature.19 

EVERYMAN. 

Dethe,  yf  I  sholde  this  pylgrymage  take, 
And  my  rekenynge  suerly  [surely]  make, 
Shewe  me,  for  saynt  Charyte. 
Sholde  I  not  come  agayne  shortly? 

DETHE. 

No,  Everyman,  and  thou  be  ones  there, 
Thou  mayst  never  more  come  here, 
Trust  me  veryly. 

[Everyman 


EVERYMAN  91 

EVERYMAN. 

0  gracyous  God  in  the  hye  sete  celestyall, 
Have  mercy  on  me  in  this  moost  nede! 

Shall  I  have  no  company  fro  this  vale  terestryall 
Of  myne  acqueynte  that  way  me  to  lede? 

DETHE. 

Ye,  yf  ony  be  so  hardy 

That  wolde  go  with  the  and  here  the  company. 
Hye  the  that  thou  were  gone  to  Goddes  magnyfy- 

cence, 

Thy  rekenynge  to  gyve  before  his  presence. 
What,  wenest  [thinkest]  thou  thy  lyve  is  gyven  the, 
And  thy  worldely  goodes  also? 

EVERYMAN. 

1  had  wende  [thought]  so  veryle. 

DETHE. 

Nay,  nay ;  it  was  but  lende  the, 
For  as  soone  as  thou  arte  go, 

Another  a  whyle  shall  have  it  and  than  go  ther  fro, 
Even  as  thou  hast  done. 
Everyman,  thou  arte  made   [mad],  thou  hast  thy 

wyttes  fyve, 

And  here  on  erthe  wyll  not  amende  thy  lyve ! 
For  sodeynly  I  do  come. 

[Everyman 


92  EVERYMAN 

EVERYMAN. 

O  wretched  caytyfe,  wheder  [whither]  shall  I  flee, 
That  I  myght  scape  this  en  dies  sorowe? 
Now,  gentyll  Deth,  spare  me  tyll  to  morowe, 
That  I  may  amende  me 
With  good  advysement ! 

DETHE. 

Naye,  therto  I  wyll  not  consent, 
Nor  no  man  wyll  I  respyte ; — 
But  to  the  herte  sodeynly  I  shall  smyte 
Without  ony  advysement. 
And  now  out  of  thy  syght  I  wyll  me  hy ; 
Se  thou  make  the  redy  shortely, 
For  thou  mayst  saye,  this  is  the  daye 
That  no  man  lyvynge  may  scape  a  waye. 

EVERYMAN. 

Alas!     I  may  well  wepe  with  syghes  depe! 
Now  have  I  no  maner  of  company 
To  helpe  me  in  my  journey,  and  me  to  kepe, 
And  also  my  wrytynge  is  full  unredy. 
How  shall  I  do  now  for  to  exscuse  me? 
I  wolde  to  God  I  had  never  be  gete !  20 
To  my  soule  a  fulle  grete  profyte  it  had  be,^ 
For  now  I  fere  paynes  huge  and  grete. 
The  tyme  passeth — Lorde,  helpe,  that  all  wrought! 
For  though  I  mourne,  it  avayleth  nought. 
The  day  passeth,  and  is  almost  ago  [gone]  ; 

[I  wote 


EVERYMAN  93 

I  wote  not  well  what  for  to  do. 

To  whome  were  I  best  my  complaynt  to  make? 

What,  and  I  to  Felawshyp  thereof  spake,21 

And  shewed  hym  of  this  sodeyne  chaunce! 

For  in  hym  is  all  myne  affyaunce ; 

We  have  in  the  worlde  so  many  a  daye 

Be  good  frendes  in  sporte  and  playe. 

I  se  hym  yonder  certaynely ; 

I  trust  that  he  wyll  here  me  company, 

Therefore  to  hym  wyll  I  speke  to  ese  my  sorowe. 

Well  mette,  good  Felawshyp,  and  good  morowe. 

FELAWSHYP   SPEKETH : 

Everyman,  good  morowe,  by  this  daye. 
Syr,  why  lokest  thou  so  pyteously  ? 
If  ony  thynge  be  amysse,  I  praye  the  me  saye, 
That  I  may  helpe  to  remedy. 

EVERYMAN. 

Ye,  good  Felawshyp,  ye ; 
I  am  in  greate  jeoparde. 

FELAWSHYP. 

My  true  f rende,  shewe  to  me  your  mynde ; 
I  wyll  not  forsake  the  to  my  lyves  ende, 
In  the  waye  of  good  company. 


EVERYMAN. 
That  was  well  spoken  and  lovyngly. 


[Felawshyp 


94  EVERYMAN 

FELAWSHYP. 

Syr,  I  must  nedes  knowe  your  hevynesse ; 
I  have  pyte  to  se  you  in  ony  dystresse. 
If  ony  have  you  wronged,22  ye  shall  revenged  be, 
Though  I  on  the  grounde  be  slayne  for  the ; 
Though  that  I  knowe  before  that  I  sholde  dye. 

EVEEYMAN. 
Veryly,  Felawshyp,  gramercy. 

FELAWSHYP. 

Tusshe!  by  thy  thankes  I  set  not  a  strawe, 
Shewe  me  your  grefe,  and  saye  no  more. 

EVERYMAN. 

If  I  my  herte  sholde  to  you  breke, 
And  than  you  to  tourne  your  mynde  fro  me, 
And  wolde  not  me  comforte  whan  ye  here  me  speke, 
Than  sholde  I  ten  tymes  soryer  be. 

FELAWSHYP. 
•      Syr,  I  saye  as  I  wyll  do  in  dede. 

EVERYMAN. 

Than  be  you  a  good  f rende  at  nede, 
I  have  founde  you  true  here  before. 

[Felawshyp 


EVERYMAN  95 

FELAWSHYP. 

And  so  ye  shall  evermore, 
For,  in  fayth,  and  thou  go  to  hell, 
I  wyll  not  forsake  the  by  the  waye. 

EVERYMAN. 

Ye  speke  lyke  a  good  f rende,  I  byleve  you  well ; 
I  shall  deserve  it,  and  I  maye. 

FELAWSHYP. 

I  speke  of  no  deservynge,  by  this  daye, 
For  he  that  wyll  saye  and  nothynge  do, 
Is  not  worthy  with  good  company  to  go ; 
Therfore  shewe  me  the  grefe  of  your  mynde 
As  to  your  f  rende  moost  lovynge  and  kynde. 

EVERYMAN. 

I  shall  shewe  you  how  it  is : 
Commaunded  I  am  to  go  a  journaye 
A  longe  waye,  harde  and  daungerous, 
And  gyve  a  strayte  counte23  without  delaye 
Before  the  hye  judge  Adonay.24 
Wherfore,  I  pray  you,  bere  me  company, 
As  ye  have  promysed,  in  this  journaye. 

FELAWSHYP. 

That  is  mater  in  dede !    Promyse  is  duty ; 
But  and  I  sholde  take  suche  a  vyage  on  me, 
I  knowe  it  well  it  sholde  be  to  my  payne; 
Also  it  makes  me  aferde,  certayne. 

[But 


96  EVERYMAN 

But  let  us  take  counsel!  here  as  well  as  we  can, 
For  your  wordes  wolde  fere  a  stronge  man. 

EVERYMAN. 

Why,  ye  sayd  if  I  had  nede, 
Ye  wolde  me  never  forsake,  quycke  ne  deed, 
Though  it  were  to  hell,  truely. 

FELAWSHYP. 

So  I  sayd  certaynely ; 

But  suche  pleasures  be  set  asyde,  the  sothe  25  to  saye, 
And  also,  yf  we  toke  suche  a  journaye, 
Whan  sholde  we  come  agayne  ? 

EVERYMAN. 
Nay,  never  agayne  tyll  the  daye  of  dome. 

FELAWSHYP. 

In  fayth,  than  wyll  not  I  come  there. 
Who  hath  you  these  tydynges  brought? 

EVERYMAN. 
In  dede,  Dethe  was  with  me  here. 

FELAWSHYP. 

Now,  by  God  that  alle  hathe  bought, 
If  Dethe  were  the  messenger, 
For  no  man  that  is  lyvynge  to  daye 
I  wyll  not  go  that  lothe  journaye, 
Not  for  the  fader  that  bygate  me. 

[Everyman 


EVERYMAN  97 

EVERYMAN. 
Ye  promysed  other  wyse,  parde. 

FELAWSHYP. 

I  wote  [know]  well  I  say  so,  truely, 
And  yet  yf  thou  wylte  etc  and  drynke  and  make  good 

chere, 

Or  haunt  to  women  the  lusty  company, 
I  wolde  not  forsake  you  whyle  the  daye  is  clere, 
Trust  me  veryly. 

EVERYMAN. 

Ye,  therto  ye  wolde  be  redy : 
To  go  to  myrthe,  solas,  and  playe. 
Your  mynde  wyll  sooner  apply 
Than  to  here  me  company  in  my  longe  journaye. 

FELAWSHYP. 

Now,  in  good  fayth,  I  wyll  not  that  waye : 
But,  and  thou  wyll  murder,  or  ony  man  kyll, 
In  that  I  wyll  helpe  thee  with  a  good  wyll. 

EVERYMAN. 

O,  that  is  a  symple  advyse  in  dede ! 
Gentyll  Felawe,26  help  me  in  my  necessyte ; 
We  have  loved  longe,  and  now  I  nede ! 
And  now,  gentyll  Felawshyp,  remember  me. 

FELAWSHTP. 

Wheder  ye  have  loved  me  or  no, 
By  saynt  John,  I  wyll  not  with  the  go. 

[Everyman 


98  EVERYMAN 

EVERYMAN. 

Yet  I  pray  the,  take  the  labour,  and  do  so  moche 

for  me, 

To  brynge  me  forwarde,27  for  saynt  Charyte, 
And  comforte  me,  tyll  I  come  without  the  towne. 

FELAWSHYP. 

Nay,  and  thou  wolde  gyve  me  a  newe  gowne, 
I  wyll  not  a  f ote  with  the  go ; 
But  and  thou  had  taryed,  I  wolde  not  have  lefte  the 

so; 

And  as  now,  God  spede  the  in  thy  journaye! 
For  from  the  I  wyll  departe  as  fast  as  I  maye. 

EVERYMAN. 

Wheder  awaye,  Felawshyp  ?  wyll  you  28  forsake 
me? 

FELAWSHYP. 

Ye,  by  my  f  aye !    To  God  I  betake  the ! 
EVERYMAN. 

Farewell,  good  Felawshype !   For  this  my  herte  is 

sore. 
Adewe  forever,  I  shall  se  the  no  more ! 

[Felawshyp 


EVERYMAN  99 

FELAWSHYP. 

In  fayth,  Everyman,  fare  well  now  at  the  ende,29 
For  you  I  wyll  remember  that  partynge  is  mourn- 
ynge. 

EVERYMAN. 

Alacke !  shall  we  thus  departe  in  dede? 
A!  Lady,  helpe,  without  ony  more  comforte, 
Lo,  Felawshyp  forsaketh  me  in  my  moost  nede.80 
For  helpe  in  this  worlde  wheder  shall  I  resorte? 
Felawshyp  here  before  with  me  wolde  mery  make, 
And  nowe  lytell  sorowe  for  me  dooth  he  take. 
It  is  sayd,  in  prosperyte  men  frendes  may  fynde, 
Whiche  in  adversyte  be  full  unkynde. 
Now  wheder  [whither]  for  socoure  shall  I  flee, 
Syth  [since]  that  Felawshyp  hath  forsaken  me? 
To  my  kynnesmen  I  wyll  truely, 
Prayenge  them  to  helpe  me  in  my  necessyte. 
I  beleve  that  they  wyll  do  so, 
For  kynde  wyll  crepe  where  it  may  not  go.31 
I  wyll  go  saye;  for  yonder  I  se  them  go: — 
Where  be  ye  now,  my  frendes  and  kynnesmen?  32 

KYNEEDE. 

Here  be  we  now  at  your  commaundement. 
Cosyn,  I  praye  you,  shewe  us  your  entent 
In  ony  wise,  and  not  spare.33 

COSYN. 

Ye,  Everyman,  and  to  us  declare 
If  ye  be  disposed  to  go  ony  whyder ; 
For,  wet  you  well  wyll  lyve  and  dye  to  gyder.34 

[Kynrede 


100  EVERYMAN 

KYNREDE. 

In  welth  and  wo  we  wyll  with  you  holde ; 35 
For  over  his  kynne  a  man  may  be  bolde. 

EVERYMAN. 

Gramercy,  my  f  rendes  and  kynnesmen  kynde, 
Now  shall  I  shewe  you  the  gref e  of  my  mynde. 
I  was  commaunded  by  a  messenger, 
That  is  a  hye  kynges  chefe  offycer; 
He  bad  me  go  a  pylgrymage  to  my  payne, 
And,36  I  knowe  well,  I  shall  never  oome  agayne. 
Also  I  must  gyve  a  rekenynge  strayte, 
For  I  have  a  grete  enemy  that  hath  me  in  wayte, 
Whiche  entendeth  me  for  to  hynder. 

KYNREDE. 

What  a  counte  is  that  whiche  ye  must  render  ? 
That  wolde  I  knowe. 


EVERYMAN. 

Of  all  my  workes  I  must  shewe, 
How  I  have  lyved,  and  my  dayes  spent ; 
Also  of  yll  dedes  that  I  have  used 
In  my  tyme,  syth  lyfe  was  me  lent, 
And  of  all  vertues  that  I  have  refused. 
Therefore,  I  praye  you,  go  thyder  with  me 
To  helpe  to  make  myn  accounte,  for  saynt  Charyte. 

[Cosyn 


EVERYMAN  101 

COSYN. 

"What,  to  go  thyder?    Is  that  the  mater? 
Nay,  Everyman,  I  had  lever  fast 37  brede  and  water, 
All  this  fyve  yere  and  more. 

EVERYMAN. 

Alas,  that  ever  I  was  bore ! 
For  now  shall  I  never  be  mery, 
If  that  you  forsake  me. 

KYNREDE. 

A !  syr,  what,  ye  be  a  mery  man ! 
Take  good  herte  to  you,  and  make  no  mone. 
But  one  thynge  I  warne  you,  by  saint  Anne, 
As  for  me,  ye  shall  go  alone. 

EVERYMAN. 

My  Cosyn,  wyll  you  not  with  me  go? 
COSYN. 

No,  by  our  Lady !  I  have  the  crampe  in  my  to : 88 
Trust  not  to  me ;  for,  so  God  me  spede, 
I  wyll39  deceyve  you  in  your  moost  nede. 

KYNREDE. 

It  avayleth  not  us  to  tyse  [entice]  : 
Ye  shall  have  my  mayde,  with  all  my  herte; 
She  loveth  to  go  to  festes  there  to  be  nyse, 
And  to  daunce,  and  abrode  to  sterte. 
I  wyll  gyve  her  leve  to  helpe  you  in  that  journeye, 
If  that  you  and  she  may  agree. 

[Everyman 


102  EVERYMAN 

.    EVERYMAN. 

Now40  shewe  me  the  very  effecte  of  your  mynde 
Wyll  you  go  with  me,  or  abyde  be  hynde? 

KYNREDE. 

Abyde  behynde !  ye,  that  wyll  I  and  I  maye ; 
Therfore  farewell  tyll  another  daye. 

EVERYMAN. 

Howe  sholde  I  be  mery  or  gladde  ? 
For  fayre  promyses  men  to  me  make, 
But,  when  I  have  moost  nede,  they  me  forsake ; 
I  am  deceyved,  that  maketh  me  sadde. 

COSYN. 

Cosyn  Everyman,  farewell  now, 
For,  veryly,  I  wyll  not  go  with  you. 
Also  of  myne  owne41  an  unredy  rekenynge 
I  have  to  accounte,  therf ore  I  make  taryenge ; 
Now  God  kepe  the,  for  now  I  go. 

EVERYMAN. 

A !  Jesus,  is  all  come  hereto  ? 
Lo,  fayre  wordes  maketh  fooles  fayne ;  42 
They  promyse,  and  nothynge  wyll  do  certayne. 
My  kynnesmen  promysed  me  f aythfully 
For  to  abyde  with  me  stedf astly ; 
And  now  fast  awaye  do  they  flee : 
Even  so  Felawshyp  promysed  me. 
What  f rende  were  best  me  of  to  provyde  ? 

[I  lose 


EVERYMAN  103 

I  lose  my  time  here  longer  to  abyde ; 

Yet  in  my  mynde  a  thynge  there  is : 

All  my  lyfe  I  have  loved  ryches ; 

If  that  my  Goodes  now  helpe  me  myght, 

He  43  wolde  make  my  herte  full  light ; 

I  wyll  speke  to  him  in  this  distresse. 

Where  arte  thou,  my  Goodes  and  Ryches? 

GOODES. 

Who    calleth   me?    Everyman?    what,   hast   thou 

haste?44 

I  lye  here  in  corners  trussed  and  pyled  so  hye, 
And  in  chestes  I  am  locked  so  fast, 
Also  sacked  in  bagges,  thou  mayst  se  with  thyn  eye, 
I  can  not  styre ;  in  packes,  lowe  [low]  I  lye. 
What  wolde  ye  have?    Lightly  me  saye. 

EVERYMAN. 

Come  hyder,  Goodes,  in  al  the  haste  thou  may, 
For  of  counseyll  I  must  desyre  the. 

GOODES. 

Syr,  and  ye  in  the  worlde  have  sorowe  or  adversyte, 
That  can  I  helpe  you  to  remedy  shortly. 

EVERYMAN. 

It  is  another  dysease  that  greveth  me ; 
In  this  world  it  is  not,  I  tell  the  so, 
I  am  sent  for  an  other  way  to  go, 
To  gyve  a  strayte  counte  generall 
Before  the  hyest  Jupiter  of  all. 

[And 


104  EVERYMAN 

And  all  my  lyfe  I  have  had  joye  and  pleasure  in  the,45 

Therfore  I  pray  the  46  go  with  me ; 

For,  paraventure,  thou  mayst  before  God  almyghty 

My  rekenynge  helpe  to  clene  and  puryfye, 

For  it  is  saide  ever  amonge, 

That  money  maketh  all  ryght  that  is  wronge. 

• 

GOODES. 

Nay,  Everyman,  I  synge  an  other  songe ; 
I  folowe  no  man  in  suche  vyages, 
For,  and  I  wente  with  the, 
Thou  sholdes  fare  moche  the  worse  for  me : 
For  because  on  me  thou  dyd  set  thy  mynde, 
Thy  rekenynge  I  have  made  blotted  and  blynde, 
That  thyne  accounte  thou  can  not 4T  make  truely ; 
And  that  hast  thou  for  the  love  of  me. 

EVERYMAN. 

That  wolde  greve  me  full  sore, 
Whan  I  sholde  come  to  that  ferefull  answere. 
Up,  let  us  go  thyder  togyder ! 

GOODES. 

Nay,  not  so ;  I  am  to  bry tell,  I  may  not  endure : 
I  wyll  folowe  no  man  one  fote,  be  ye  sure. 

EVERYMAN. 

Alas !  I  have  the  loved,  and  had  grete  pleasure 
All  my  lyfe  dayes  on  good  and  treasure. 

[Goodes 


EVERYMAN  105 

GOODES. 

That  is  to  thy  dampnacyon  without  lesynge,48 
For  my  love  is  contrary  to  the  love  everlastynge ; 
But  yf  thou  had  me  loved  moderately  durynge, 
As  to  the  poore  gyve  parte  of  me,49 
Than  sholdest  thou  not  in  this  dolour  be,80 
Nor  in  this  grete  sorowe  and  care. 

EVERYMAN. 

Lo,  now  was  I  deceyved  or  51  I  was  ware, 
And  all  I  may  wyte  62  myspendynge  of  tyme. 

GOODES. 
What,  wenest  [thinkest]  thou  I  am  thyne? 

EVERYMAN. 
I  had  went  [thought]  so. 

GOODES. 

Nay,  Everyman,  I  saye  no : 
As  for  a  whyle  I  was  lente  the; 
A  season  thou  hast  had  me  in  prosperyte ; 
My  condycyon  is  mannes  soule  to  kyll, 
If  I  save  one,  a  thousande  I  do  spyll. 
Wenest  thou  that  I  wyll  folowe  the? 
Nay,  fro  this  world  not  veryle.03 


EVERYMAN. 
I  had  wende  [thought]  otherwyse. 


[Goodes 


106  EVERYMAN 

GOODES. 

Therfore  to  thy  soul  Good  is  a  thefe, 
For  whan  thou  arte  deed,  this  is  my  gyse, 
Another  to  deceyve  in  the  same  wyse 
As  I  have  done  the,  and  all  to  his  soules  reprefe. 

EVERYMAN. 

O  false  Good,  cursed  thou  be, 
Thou  traytour  to  God  that  hast  deceyved  me 
And  caught  me  in  thy  snare. 

GOODES. 

Mary  [Marry],  thou  brought  thy  self  in  care, 
Wherof  I  am  gladde: 
I  must  nedes  laugh,  I  can  not  be  sadde. 

EVERYMAN. 

A,  Good,  thou  hast  had  longe  my  hertely  [hearty] 

love; 

I  gave  the  that  whiche  sholde  be  the  Lordes  above ; 
But  wylte  thou  not  go  with  me  in  dede? 
I  pray  the  trouth  to  say. 

GOODES. 

No,  so  God  me  spede ! 
Therfore  fare  well  and  have  good  daye. 

EVERYMAN. 

O !  to  whome  shall  I  make  my  mone 
For  to  go  with  me  in  that  hevy  journaye? 

[Fyrst 


EVERYMAN  107 

Fyrst  Felawshyp  sayd  he  wolde  with  me  gone ; 

His  wordes  were  very  plesaunt  and  gaye, 

But  afterwarde  he  lefte  me  alone. 

Than  spake  I  to  my  kynnesmen  all  in  dyspayre, 

And  also  they  gave  me  wordes  fayre; 

They  lacked  no  fayre  spekynge, 

But  all  forsake  me  in  the  endynge. 

Then  wente  I  to  my  Goodes  that  I  loved  best, 

In  hope  to  have  comf orte :  but  there  had  I  leest, 

For  my  Goodes  sharpely  dyd  me  tell 

That  he  bryngeth  many  in  to  hell. 

Than  of  my  self  I  was  ashamed, 

And  so  I  am  worthy  to  be  blamed: 

Thus  may  I  well  my  selfe  hate. 

Of  whome  shall  I  now  counseyll  take? 

I  thynke  that  I  shall  never  spede 

Tyll  that  I  go  to  my  Good  Dede ; 

But,  alas !  she  is  so  weke 

That  she  can  nother  go  nor  speke ; 

Yet  wyll  I  venter  on  her  now. 

My  Good  Dedes,  where  be  you  ? 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Here  I  lye  colde  in  the  grounde ; 
Thy  synnes  hath  me  sore  bounde 
That  I  can  not  stere  [stir] . 

EVEBYMAN. 

O  Good  Dedes,  I  stande  in  54  fere. 
I  must  you  praye  of  counseyll, 
For  helpe  now  sholde  come  ryght  well. 

[Good  Dedes 


108  EVERYMAN 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Everyman,  I  have  understandynge 
That  ye  be  somoned  a  counte  to  make 
Before  Myssyas  of  Jherusalem  kynge, 
And  you  do  by  me  that  journay  with  you  wyll  I 
*  take.68 

EVEEYMAN. 

Therfore  I  come  to  you  my  mone  to  make, 
I  praye  you  that  ye  wyll  go  with  me. 

GOOD  DEDES. 
I  wolde  full  fayne,  but  I  can  not  stande  veryly. 

EVERYMAN. 
Why,  is  there  ony  thynge  on  you  fall? 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Ye,  syr,  I  may  thanke  you  of  56  all. 
If  ye  had  parfytely  chered  me, 
Your  boke  of  counte  full  redy  nowe  had  be. 
Loke,  the  bokes  of  your  workes  and  dedes   [deeds] 

eke; 

A !  se  6T  how  they  lye  under  the  fete, 
To  your  soules  hevynes. 

EVEEYMAN. 

Our  Lorde  Jesus  helpe  me, 
For  one  letter  here  I  can  not  se. 

[Good  Dedes 


EVERYMAN  109 

GOOD  DEDES. 
There  is  a  blynde  reckenynge  in  tyme  of  dystres! 

EVERYMAN. 

Good  Dedes,  I  praye  you  helpe  me  in  this  nede, 
Or  elles  I  am  for  ever  dampned  in  dede ; 
Therfore  helpe  me  to  make  rekenynge 
Before  the  Redemer  of  all  thynge, 
That  kynge  is,  and  was,  and  ever  shall. 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Everyman,  I  am  sory  of  your  fall, 
And  fayne  wolde  I  helpe  you  and  I  were  able. 

EVERYMAN. 
Good  Dedes,  your  counseyll,  I  praye  you,  gyve  me. 

GOOD  DEDES. 

That  shall  I  do  veryly ; 
Thoughe  that  on  my  fete  I  may  not  go, 
I  have  a  syster  that  shall  with  you  also, 
Called  Knowlege,  whiche  shall  with  you  abyde, 
To  helpe  you  to  make  that  dredeful  rekenynge. 

KNOWLEGE. 

Everyman,  I  wyll  go  with  the,  and  be  thy  gyde 
In  thy  moost  nede  to  go  by  thy  syde. 

[Everyman 


110  EVERYMAN 

EVERYMAN. 

In  good  oondycyon  I  am  now  in  every  thynge, 
And  am  hole  content  with  this  good  thynge, 
Thanked  be  God  my  creator. 

GOOD  DEDES. 

'And  whan  he  hath  brought  the  there, 
Where  thou  shalt  hele  the  of  thy  smarte, 
Than  go  thou  with  thy  rekenynge  and  thy  good  dedes 

togyder, 

For  to  make  the  joyfull  at  herte 
Before  the  blessed  Trynyte. 

EVERYMAN. 

My  Good  Dedes,  gramercy ;  58 
I  am  well  content  certaynly 
With  your  wordes  swete. 

KNOWLEGE. 

Now  go  we  togyder  lovyngly 
To  Confessyon,  that  clensynge  ryvere. 

EVERYMAN. 

For  joy  I  wepe :  I  wolde  we  were  there ! 
But,  I  pray  you,  gyve  me  cognycyon,59 
Where  dwelleth  that  holy  man  Confessyon? 

KNOWLEGE. 

\sC5>  Sc"' 

In  the  hous  of  salvacyon ; 
We  shall  f ynde  hym  in  that  place, 
That  shall  us  comforte  by  Goddes  grace. 

[Lc 


EVERYMAN  111 

Lo,  this  is  Confessyon :  knele  downe,  and  aske  mercy, 
For  he  is  in  good  conceyte  with  God  almyghty. 


EVEBYMAN. 

0  gloryous   fountayne   that  all  unclenenes   doth 

claryfy, 

Wasshe  fro  me  the  spottes  of  vyce  unclene, 
That  on  me  no  synne  may  be  sene ; 
I  come  with  Knowlege  for  my  redempcyon, 
Redempte  with  herte  and  full  contrycyon, 
For  I  am  commaunded  a  pylgrymage  to  take, 
And  grete  accountes  before  God  to  make. 
Now  I  pray  you,  Shryfte,  moder  of  salvacyon, 
Helpe  my  good  dedes  for  my  pyteous  exclamacyon. 

CONFESSYON. 

1  knowe  your  sorowe  well,  Everyman. 
Because  with  Knowlege  ye  come  to  me, 
I  wyll  you  comf  orte  as  well  as  I  can ; 
And  a  precyous  Jewell  I  wyll  gyve  the, 
Called  penaunce,  voyce  voyder  60  of  adversyte; 
Therwith  shall  your  body  chastysed  be 

With  abstynence  and  perseveraunce  in  Goddes  ser- 

vyce; 

Here  shall  you  receyve  that  scourge  of  me 
Whiche  is  penaunce  stronge  that  ye  must  endure, 
To  remember  thy  Savyour  was  scourged  for  the 
With  sharpe  scourges,  and  suffred  it  pacyently ; 
So  must  thou  or  [ere]  thou  scape  that  paynful  pyl- 
grymage. 

[Knowlege 


112  EVERYMAN 

Knowlege,  kepe  hym  in  this  vyage, 

And  by  that  tyme  Good  Dedes  wyll  be  with  the; 

But  in  ony  wyse  be  seker  [sure]  of  mercy, 

For  your  tyme  draweth  fast  and  ye  wyll  saved  be ; 

Aske  God  mercy,  and  he  wyll  graunte  truely 

Whan  with  the  scourge  of  penaunce  man  doth  hym 

bynde, 
The  oyle  of  forgyvenes  than  shall  he  fynde. 

EVERYMAN. 

Thanked  be  God  for  his  gracyous  werke, 
For  nowe  I  wyll  my  penaunce  begyn ; 
This  hath  rej  oysed  and  lyghted  my  herte, 
Though  the  knottes  be  paynful  and  harde  within. 

KNOWLEGE. 

Everyman,  loke  your  penaunce  that  ye  fulfyll, 
What  payne  that  ever  it  to  you  be ; 
And  Knowlege  61  shall  gyve  you  counseyll  at  wyll, 
How  your  accounte  ye  shall  make  clerely. 

EVERYMAN. 

O  eternal  God,  o  hevenly  fygure, 
O  way  of  ryghtwysnes,  o  goodly  vysyon, 
Whych  dyscended  downe  in  a  vyrgyne  pure  62 
Because  he  wolde  every  man  redeme, 
Which  Adam  f orf ayted  by  his  disobedyence ; 
O  blessyd  Godheed,  electe  and  hye  devyne, 
Forgyve  my  grevous  offence ! 
Here  I  crye  the  mercy  in  this  presence: 
O  ghostly  treasure,  o  raunsomer  and  redemer! 

[Of  all 


O  ETERNAL  GOD,    O   HEVENLY   FYGURE." 


EVERYMAN  113 

Of  all  the  worlde,  hope  and  conduyter,63 

Myrrour  of  joye,  foundatour  [foundation]  of  mercy, 

Whiche  enlumyneth  heven  and  erth  therby, 

Here  my  clamorous  complaynt,  though  it  late  be ! 

Receyve  my  prayers !  unworthy  in  this  hevy  lyfe,64 

Though  I  be  a  synner  most  abhomynable, 

Yet  let  my  name  be  wryten  in  Moyses  table. 

0  Mary,  praye  to  the  maker  of  all  thynge 
Me  for  to  helpe  at  my  endynge, 

And  save  me  fro  the  power  of  my  enemy ! 

For  Dethe  assayleth  me  strongly: 

And,  Lady,  that  I  may,  by  meane  of  thy  prayer, 

Of  your  sones  glory  to  be  partynere, 

By  the  meanes  of  his  passyon,  I  it  crave; 

1  beseche  you,  helpe  my  soule  to  save ! 
Knowlege,  gyve  me  the  scourge  of  penaunce, 
My  flesshe  therwith  shall  gyve  acqueyntance  ;65 
I  wyll  now  begyn,  yf  God  gyve  me  grace. 

KNOWLEGE. 

Everyman,  God  gyve  you  tyme  and  space! 
Thus  I  bequeth  you  in  the  handes  of  our  Savyour; 
Now  may  you  make  your  rekenynge  sure. 

EVERYMAN. 

In  the  name  of  the  holy  Trynyte 
My  body  sore  punyshed  shall  be, 
Take  this  body  for  the  synne  of  the  flesshe; 
Also  thou  delytest  to  go  gay  and  freshe, 
And  in  the  way  of  dampnacyon  thou  dyd  me  brynge ; 
Therf ore  suffre  now  strokes  of  punysshynge ; 

[Now 


114  EVERYMAN 

Now  of  penaunce  I  wyll  wade  the  water  clere, 
To  save  me  from  purgatory,  that  sharpe  fyre.68 

GOOD  DEDES. 

I  thanke  God  now  I  can  walke  and  go, 
And  am  delyvered  of  my  sykenesse  and  wo! 
Therfore  with  Everyman  I  wyll  go,  and  not  spare, 
His  good  workes  I  wyll  helpe  hym  to  declare. 

KNOWLEGE. 

Now,  Everyman,  be  mery  and  glad, 
Your  Good  Dedes  cometh  now,  ye  may  not  be  sad; 
Now  is  your  Good  Dedes  hole  and  sounde, 
Goynge  upryght  upon  the  grounde. 

EVEEYMAN. 

My  herte  is  lyght  and  shall  be  evermore; 
Now  wyll  I  smyte  faster  than  I  dyde  before. 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Everyman,  pylgryme,  my  special  frende, 
Blessyd  be  thou  without  ende ; 
For  the  is  preparate  the  eternale  glorye. 
Ye  have  me  made  hole  and  sounde, 
Therfore  I  wyll  byde  by  the  in  every  stounde.67 

EVERYMAN. 

Welcome,  my  Good  Dedes !     Now  I  here  thy  voyce, 
I  wepe  for  swetenes  of  love. 

[Knowlege 


EVERYMAN  115 

KXOWLEGE. 

Be  no  more  sad,  but  ever  re  Joyce, 
God  seeth  thy  lyvynge  in  his  trone  above; 
Put  on  this  garment  to  thy  behove, 
Which  is  wette  with  your  teres, 
Or  elles68  before  God  you  may  it  mysse, 
When  ye  to  your  journeys  ende  come  shall. 

EVERYMAN. 

Gentyll  Knowlege,  what  do  you  y t  call  ? 

KNOWLEGE. 

It  is  the  garment  of  sorowe, 
Fro  payne  it  wyll  you  borowe ; 
Contrycyon  it  is, 
That  getteth  forgyvenes, 
It  pleaseth  God  passynge  well. 

GOOD  DEDES. 
Everyman,  wyll  you  were  it  for  you  hele  [health]  ? 

EVERYMAN. 

Now  blessyd  be  Jesu,  Maryes  sone, 
For  nowe  have  I  on  true  contrycyon : 
And  lette  us  go  now  without  taryenge. 
Good  Dedes,  have  we  clere  our  rekenynge. 


GOODE  DEDES. 
Ye,  in  dede,  I  have  them68  here. 


[Everyman 


116  EVERYMAN 

EVEEYMAN. 

Than  I  trust  we  nede  not  fere. 
Now,  frendes,  let  us  not  parte  in  twayne. 

.ce-\  CG>U'  vafttu 

KNOWLEGE.70 

Nay,  Everyman,  that  wyll  we  not  certayne. 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Yet  must  thou  leade  with  the 
Thre  persones  of  grete  myght. 

EVEEYMAN. 
Who  sholde  they  be? 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Dyscrecyon  and  Strengthe  they  hyght  [are  called], 
And  thy  Beaute  may  not  abyde  behynde. 

KNOWLEGE. 

Also  ye  must  call  to  mynde 
Your  Fyve  Wyttes  as  for  your  counseylours. 

GOOD  DEDES. 
'     You  must  have  them  ready  at  all  houres. 


EVEEYMAN. 
Howe  shall  I  gette  them  hyder? 


[Kynrede 


EVERYMAN  117 

KYNREDE. 

You  must  call  them  all  togyder, 
And  they  wyll  here  you  incontynent.71 

EVERYMAN. 

My  frendes,  come  hyder  and  be  present, 
Dyscrecyon,    Strengthe,    my    Fyve    Wyttes7*    and 
Beaute. 

BEAUTE. 

Here  at  your  wyll  we  be  all  redy ; 
What  wyll  ye  that  we  shulde  do? 

GOOD  DEDES. 

That  ye  wolde  with  Everyman  go, 
And  helpe  hym  in  his  pylgrymage. 
Advyse  you,  wyll  ye  with  hym  or  not  in  that  vyage  ? 

STRENGTHE. 

We  wyll  brynge  hym  all  thyder 
To  his  helpe  and  comforte,73  ye  may  beleve  me. 

DYSCRECYON. 
So  wyll  we  go  with  hym  all  togyder. 

EVERYMAN. 

Almyghty  God,  loved  myght  thou  be ; 
I  gyve  the  laude  that  I  have  hyder  brought 
Strengthe,  Dyscrecyon,  Beaute,  Fyve  Wyttes,  lacke 
I  nought — 

[And 


118  EVERYMAN 

And  my  Good  Dedes,  with  Knowlege  clere, 

All  be  in  my  company  at  my  wyll  here ; 

I  desyre  no  more  to  my  besynes  [business].74 

STRENGTHS. 

And  I  Strengthe  wyll  by  you  stande  in  dystres, 
Though  thou  wolde  in  batayle  fyght  on  the  grounde. 

FYVE  WYTTES. 

And  though  it  were  thrugh  the  worlde  rounde, 
We  wyll  not  departe  for  swete  ne  soure. 

BEATTTE. 

No  more  wyll  I  unto  dethes  houre, 
Watsoever  thereof  befall. 

DYSCRECYON. 

Everyman,  advyse  you  fyrst  of  all, 
Go  with  a  good  advysement  and  delyberacyon. 
We  all  gyve  you  vertuous  monycyon 
That  all  shall  be  well. 

EVERYMAN. 

My  f rendes,  harken  what  I  wyll  tell ; 
I  praye  God  rewarde  you  in  his  heven  spere. 
Now  herken  all  that  be  here, 
For  I  wyll  make  my  testament 
Here  before  you  all  present: 

[In  almes 


EVERYMAN  H9 

In  almes,  halfe  my  good  I  wyll  gyve  with  my  handes 

twayne 

In  the  way  of  charyte  with  good  entent, 
And  the  other  halfe  styll  shall  remayne 
In  queth  to  be  retourned  75  there  it  ought  to  be. 
This  I  do  in  despyte  of  the  fende  of  hell, 
To  gon  quyte  out  of  his  perell 
Ever  after  and  this  daye. 

KNOWLEGE. 

Everyman,  herken  what  I  saye ; 
Go  to  presthode,  I  you  advyse, 
And  receyve  of  him  in  ony  wyse 
The  holy  sacrament  and  oyntement  7e  togyder, 
Than  shortly  se  ye  tourne  agayne  hyder ; 
We  wyll  all  abyde  you  here. 

FYVE  WYTTES. 

Ye,  Everyman,  hye  you  that  ye  redy  were. 
There  is  no  emperour,  kynge,  duke,  ne  baron 
That  of  God  hath  commycyon, 

As  hath  the  leest  preest  in  the  worlde  beynge  [being]  ; 
For  of  the  blessyd  sacramentes  pure  and  benygne 

[benign] 

He  bereth  the  keyes,  and  thereof  hath  the  cure 
For  mannes  redempcyon,  it  is  ever  sure, 
Whiche  God  for  our  soules  medycyne 
Gave  us  oute  of  his  herte  with  grete  payne, 
Here  in  this  transytory  lyfe  for  the  and  me. 
The  blessyd  sacramentes  vn  there  be, 

[Baptym 


120  EVERYMAN 

Baptym,  confyrmacyon,  with  preesthode  good, 
And  the  sacrament  of  Goddes  precyous  flesshe  and 

blood, 

Maryage,  the  holy  extreme  unccyon,  and  penaunce; 
These  seven  be  good  to  have  in  remembraunce, 
Gracyous  sacramentes  of  hye  devynyte. 

EVERYMAN. 

Fayne  wolde  I  receyve  that  holy  body, 
And  mekely  to  my  ghostly  fader  I  wyll  go. 

FYVE  WYTTES. 

Everyman,  that  is  the  best  that  ye  can  do ; 
God  wyll  you  to  salvacyon  brynge, 
For  preesthode  excedeth  all  other  thynge; 
To  us  holy  scrypture  they  do  teche, 
And  converteth  man  fro  synne  heven  to  reche ; 
God  hath  to  them  more  power  gyven 
Than  to  ony  aungell  that  is  in  heaven. 
With  v  wordes  he  may  consecrate 
Goddes  body  in  flesshe  and  blode  to  make,77 
And  handeleth  his  maker  bytwene  his  handes; 
The  preest  byndeth  and  unbyndeth  all  bandes 
Bothe  in  erthe  and  in  heven ; 
Thou78  mynystres  all  the  sacramentes  seven ; 
Though  we  kysse  thy  fete  thou  were  worthy, 
Thou  art  surgyon  that  cureth  synne  deedly ; 
No  remedy  we  fynde  under  God, 
But  all  onely  preesthode. 
Everyman,  God  gave  preestes  that  dygnyte, 
And  setteth  them  in  his  stede  amonge  us  to  be ; 
Thus  be  they  above  aungelles  in  degree. 

[Knowlege 


EVERYMAN  121 

KNOWLEGE. 

If  preestes  be  good  it  is  so  suerly, 
But  whan   Jesu  hanged  on  the   crosse  with  grete 

smarte, 

There  he  gave  out  of  his  blessyd  herte 
The  same  sacrament  in  grete  tourment; 
He  solde  them  not  to  us,  that  Lorde  omnypotent ; 
Therfore  saynt  Peter  the  apostell  dothe  saye 
That  Jesus  curse  hath  all  they 
Whiche  God  theyr  Savyour  do  by  [buy]  or  sell, 
Or  they  for  ony  money  do  take  or  tell; 
Synfull  preestes  gyveth  the  synners  example  bad ; 
Theyr  chyldren  sytteth  by  other  mennes  fyres,  I  have 

harde, 

And  some  haunteth  womens  company, 
With  unclene  lyf e,  as  lustes  of  lechery ; 
These  be  with  synne  made  blynde. 

FYVE  WYTTES. 

I  trust  to  God  no  suche  may  we  fynde ; 
Therfore  let  us  preesthode  honour, 
And  folowe  theyr  doctryne  for  our  soules  socoure. 
We  be  theyr  shepe,  and  they  shepeherdes  be, 
By  whome  we  all  be  kepte  in  suerte. 
Peas !  for  yonder  I  see  Everyman  come, 
Whiche  hath  made  trewe  satysfaccyon. 


GOOD  DEDES. 
Me  thynke,  it  is  he  indede. 


[Everyman 


122  EVERYMAN 

EVERYMAN. 

Now  Jesu  be  our79  alder  spede!  80 
I  have  receyved  the  sacrament  for  my  redempcyon. 
And  than  myne  extreme  unccyon. 
Blessyd  be  all  they  that  counseyled  me  to  take  it ! 
And  now,  frendes,  let  us  go  without  longer  respyte; 
I  thanke  God  that  ye  have  taryed  so  longe. 
Now  set  eche  of  you  on  this  rodde  your  honde. 
And  shortely  folowe  me: 
I  go  before,  there  I  wolde  be :  God  be  our  gyde ! 

STRENGTHE. 

Everyman,  we  wyll  not  fro  you  go, 
Tyll  ye  have  gone  this  vyage  longe. 

DYSCRECYON. 

I,  Dyscrecyon,  wyll  byde  by  you  also. 
KNOWLEGE. 

And  though  this  pylgrymage  be  never  so  stronge, 
I  wyll  never  parte  you  fro. 
Everyman,  I  wyll  be  as  sure  by  the 
As  ever  I  was  by  Judas  Machabee.81 

EVERYMAN. 

Alas !  I  am  so  f aynt  I  may  not  stande, 
My  lymmes  under  me  do  f olde. 
Frendes,  let  us  not  tourne  agayne  to  this  lande, 
Not  for  all  the  worldes  golde, 
For  into  this  cave  must  I  crepe, 
And  torne  to  the  erthe  and  there  slepe.82 

[Beaute 


EVERYMAN  123 

BEAUTE. 
What,  in  to  this  grave?    Alas! 

EVERYMAN. 

,    wQ  ft-  r  > 

Ye,  there  shall  ye  consume  more  and  lesse.83 

BEAUTE. 
And  what,  sholde  I  smoder  here? 

EVERYMAN. 

Ye,  by  my  fayth,  and  never  more  appere! 
In  this  worlde  lyve  no  more  we  shall, 
But  in  heven  before  the  hyest  lorde  of  all. 

BEAUTE. 

I  crosse  out  all  this !  adewe,  by  saynt  Johan ! 
I  take84  my  cappe  in  my  lappe,  and  ara  gone. 

EVERYMAN. 

What,  Beaute !  whyder  wyll  ye  ? 

BEAUTE. 

Peas !  I  am  defe,  I  loke  not  behynd  me, 
Not  and  thou  woldest  gyve  me  all  the  golde  in  thy 
chest. 

EVERYMAN. 

Alas!  whereto  may  I  truste? 
Beaute  gothe  fast  awaye  fro  me,85 
She  promysed  with  me  to  lyve  and  dye. 

[Strengthe 


124  EVERYMAN 

STBENGTHE. 

Everyman,  I  wyll  the  also  forsake  and  denyes 
Thy  game  lyketh  me  not  at  all. 

EVEEYMAN. 

Why,  than  ye  wyll  forsake  me  all! 
Swete  Strengthe,  tary  a  lytel  space.86 

STBENGTHE. 

Nay,  syr,  by  the  rode  of  grace, 
I  wyll  hye  me  from  the  fast, 
Though  thou  wepe  till  thy  hert  do  brast. 

EVERYMAN. 
Ye  wolde  ever  byde  by  me,  ye  sayd. 

STRENGTHE. 

Ye,  I  have  you  ferre  ynoughe  conveyde. 
Ye  be  olde  ynoughe,  I  understande, 
Your  pylgrymage  to  take  on  hande ; 
I  repent  me  that  I  hyder  came. 

EVERYMAN. 

Strengthe,  you  to  dysplease  I  am  to  blame ; 
Wyll  ye  breke  promyse  that  is  dette  ?  87 

STRENGTHE. 

In  f ayth,  as  for  that  I  care  not ! 
Thou  art  but  a  foole  to  complayne. 
You  spende  your  spech,  and  waste  your  brayne ; 
Go,  thryste  [thrust]  the  into  the  grounde. 

[Everyman 


EVERYMAN  125 

EVEEYMAN. 

I  had  wende  surer  I  sholde  you  have  founde, 
But  I  se  well,  that  trusteth  in  his  Strengthe, 
She  hym  deceyveth  88  at  the  lengthe ; 
Bothe  Strength  and  Beaute  forsaketh  me, 
Yet  they  promysed  me  f ayre  and  lovyngly.89 

DYSCEECYON. 

Everyman,  I  wyll  after  Strength  be  gone ; 
As  for  me,  I  wyll  leve  you  alone. 

EVEEYMAN. 
Why,  Dyscrecyon,  wyll  ye  forsake  me? 

DYSCEECYON. 

Ye,  in  fayth,  I  wyll  go  fro  the, 
For  whan  Strength  goth  before 
I  folowe  after  ever  more. 

EVEEYMAN. 

Yet,  I  pray  the  for  love  of  the  Trynyte, 
Loke  in  my  grave  ones  pyteously. 

DYSCEECYON. 

Nay,  so  nye  wyll  I  not  come ! 
Now  farewell  fellowes  everychone. 

EVEEYMAN. 

O,  all  thynge  fayleth,  save  God  alone : 
Beaute,  Strengthe,  and  Dyscrecyon ; 
For,  whan  Deth  bloweth  his  blast, 
They  all  renne  fro  me  full  fast. 

[Fyve  Wyttes 


126  EVERYMAN 

FYVE  WYTTES. 

Everyman,  my  leve  now  of  the  I  take ; 
I  wyll  folowe  the  other,  for  here  I  the  forsake. 

EVEEYMAN. 

Alas !  than  may  I  wayle  and  wepe, 
For  I  toke  you  for  my  best  frende. 

FYVE  WYTTES. 

I  wyll  no  lenger  the  kepe ; 
Now  farewell,  and  here  an  ende. 

EVERYMAN. 
O  Jesu,  helpe!  all  hath  forsaken  me. 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Nay,  Everyman,  I  wyll  byde  with  the, 
I  wyll  not  forsake  the  in  dede ; 
Thou  shalte  fynde  me  a  good  frende  at  nede. 

EVEEYMAN. 

Gramercy,  Good  Dedes,  now  may  I  true  f rendes  se ; 
They  have  forsaken  me  everychone ; 
I  loved  them  better  than  my  Good  Dedes  alone ; 
Knowlege,  wyll  ye  forsake  me  also? 

KNOWLEGE. 

Ye,  Everyman,  whan  ye  to  deth  shall  go, 
But  not  yet  for  no  maner  of  daunger. 

[Everyman 


NAY,   EVERYMAN,   I    WILL   BYDE  WITH   THE. 


EVERYMAN  127 

r 

EVERYMAN. 
Gramercy,  Knowlege,  with  all  my  herte. 

KNOWLEGE. 

Nay,  yet  I  wyll  not  from  hens  departe, 
Tyll  I  se  where  ye  shall  be  come. 

EVERYMAN. 

Me  thynke,  alas !  that  I  must  be  gone 
To  make  my  rekenynge,  and  my  dettes  paye ; 
For  I  se  my  tyme  is  nye  spente  away. 
Take  example,  all  ye  that  this  do  here  or  se, 
How  they  that  I  love  best  do  forsake  me, 
Excepte  my  Good  Dedes  that  bydeth  truely. 

GOOD  DEDES. 

All  erthly  thynges  is  but  vanyte, 
Beaute,  Strengthe,  and  Dyscrecyon  do  man  forsake, 
Folysshe  frendes  and  kynnesmen  that  fayre  spake, 
All  fleeth  save  Good  Dedes,  and  that  am  I. 

EVERYMAN. 

Have  mercy  on  me,  God  moost  myghty, 
And  stande  by  me,  thou  moder  and  mayde,  holy  Mary. 

GOOD  DEDES. 
Fere  not,  I  wyll  speke  for  the. 

EVERYMAN. 
Here  I  crye,  God  mercy ! 

[Good  Dedes 


128  EVERYMAN 

GOOD  DEDES. 

Shorte  our  ende  and  mynyshe  our  payne ; 
Let  us  go  and  never  come  agayne. 

EVERYMAN. 

Into  thy  handes,  Lorde,  my  soule  I  commende. 
Receyve  it,  Lorde,  that  it  be  not  lost ! 
As  thou  me  boughtest,  so  me  defende, 
And  save  me  fro  the  fendes  boost  [fiend's  boast] 
That  I  may  appere  with  that  blessyd  hoost 
That  shall  be  saved  at  the  day  of  dome: 
In  manus  tuas,  of  myghtes  moost, 
For  ever  commendo  spiritum  meum.QO 

KNOWLEGE. 

Now  hath  he  suffred  that  we  all  shall  endure, 
The  good  dedes  shall  make  all  sure. 
Now  hath  he  made  endynge, 
Me  thynketh  that  I  here  aungelles  synge, 
And  make  grete  joy  and  melody, 
Where  every  mannes  91  soule  receyved  shall  be. 

THE  AUNGELL. 

Come,  excellente  electe  spouse  to  Jesu ! 
Here  above  thou  shalte  go, 
Because  of  thy  synguler  vertue. 
Now  thy  soule  is  taken  thy  body  fro, 
Thy  rekenynge  is  crystall  clere ; 
Now  shalte  thou  into  the  hevenly  spere, 
Unto  the  whiche  all  ye  shall  come 
That  lyveth  well,  before  the  daye  of  dome 

[Doctour 


EVERYMAN  129 

DOCTOUB. 

This  morall  men  92  may  have  in  mynde : 
Ye  herers,  take  it  of  93  worth,  olde  and  yonge, 
And  forsake  pryde,  for  he  deceyveth  you  in  the  ende, 
And  remember  Beaute,  Fyve  Wyttes,  Strengthe,  and 

Dyscrecyon. 

They  all  at  the  last  do  Everyman  forsake, 
Save  his  Good  Dedes,  there  doth  he  take.94 
But  beware,  and  they  be  small, 
Before  God  he  hath  no  helpe  at  all ; 
None  excuse  may  be  there  for  Everyman. 
Alas!  howe  shall  he  do  than? 
For  after  dethe  amendes  may  no  man  make, 
For  than  mercy  and  pyte  doth  hym  forsake ; 
If  his  rekenynge  be  not  clere  whan  he  doth  come, 
God  wyll  saye  Ite,  maledicti,  in  ignem  aeternum. 
And  he  that  hath  his  accounte  hole  and  sounde — 
Hye  in  heven  he  shall  be  crounde, 
Unto  whiche  place  God  bringe  us  all  thyder, 
That  we  may  lyve  body  and  soule  togyder ! 
Therto  helpe  the  Trynyte! 
Amen,  saye  ye,  for  saynt  Charyte. 

FINIS 

Thus  endeth  this  morall  playe  of  Everyman.95 


APPENDIX 


NOTES  TO  INTRODUCTION 

1.  An  example  of  the  trope  is  well  illustrated  in 
the  following  which  is  taken  from  Gautier's  Hist,  de 
la  Poesie  Liturg.  au  Moyen  Age.    Les  Tropes  [pp. 
2-3].     The  Introit  to  the  Mass  of  Christmas  Morn- 
ing reads  (Roman  Liturgy) : 

Puer  natus  est  nobis,  et  filius  datus  est  nobis,  cujus 
imperium  super  humerum  ejus,  et  vocabitur  nomen 
ejus  magni  consilii  angelus  (Isaiah  ix.  6). 

In  trope:  Gaudeamus  hodie  quia  Deus  descendit  de 
coelis,  et  propter  nos  in  terris  Puer  natus  est  nobis, 
quern  Prophetse  diu  vaticinati  sunt.  Et  filius 
datus  est  nobis.  Hunc  a  Patre  jam  novimus  ad- 
venisse  in  mundum  Cujus  imperium  super  humerum 
ejug,  potestas  et  regnum  in  manu  ejus.  Et  voca- 
bitur nomen  ejus  Admirabilis,  consiliarius,  Deus 
fortis,  princeps  pacis,  magni  consilii  angelus. 
The  relation,  however,  between  the  trope  and  the 

later  liturgical  and  passion  plays  is  a  difficult,  yet 

an  important,  one  to  establish. 

2.  In  Das  Drama  des  Mittelalters,  R.  Froning, 
appear  examples  of  this  change  to  the  vernacular,  in 
the  German  development.     From  the  Trier  Easier 
Play,  the  following  is  quoted  (vide  vol.  i,  p.  51,  11. 
50-53)  : 

Tune  angeli  cantant : 

Quern  queritis,  O  tremule  mulieres,  in  hoc  tumulo 
plorantes  ? 

133 


134  NOTES 

Et  primus  angelus  dicit  rickmum : 

Wenen  sucht  ir  drij  f rauwen 

myd  jamer  un  myt  ruwen 

also  frue  inn  dyessem  grabe 

an  dyssem  osterlychen  tage? 

Note  the  translation  is  fairly  close,  with  but  a  slight 
idea  added. 
From  the  BenediJctbeur  Passion  Play,  the  earliest 

Passion  play  extant  (end  of  Xlllth  century,  or 

beginning  of  XlVth  century),  the  following  is 

quoted  (vide  p.  286, 11.  27-30;  35-41)  : 
Modo  vadat  Maria  cum  puellis  ad  mercatorem  can- 

tando: 

Michi  confer,  venditor,  species  emendas 

pro  multa  pecunia  tibi  iam  reddenda ! 

si  quid  habes  insuper  ordoramentorum : 

nam  volo  perungere  corpus  hoc  decorum.   .   .   . 
Maria  Magdalena : 

Chramer,  gip  die  varwe  mier, 

diu  min  wengel  roete, 

da  mit  ich  di  jungen  man 

an  ir  danch  der  minnenliebe  noete ! 
Item: 

Seht  mich  an, 

jungen  man! 

Lat  mich  eu  gevallen ! 

Note  the  free  translation,  lyrical  style,  and  popular 
quality.  There  are  two  more  stanzas  in  a  similar 
strain. 

3.  We  quote  from  Mr.  Charles  Davidson's  invalu- 
able monograph  on  the  English  Mystery  Plays  (Yale 
Univ.,  1892)  concerning  the  puys: 


NOTES  135 

"  In  France,  the  puy,  that  shadowy  literary 
academy  of  the  Middle  Ages,  was  the  immediate 
successor  of  the  clergy.  These  puys,  semi-reli- 
gious, semi-literary,  were  very  numerous  in  the 
west  and  north  of  France.  During  the  Xlth  and 
Xllth  centuries  they  were  devoted  to  the  service 
of  the  Virgin,  and  the  members  composed  verse  in 
her  honor,  but  in  the  Xlllth  century  the  influ- 
ence of  the  lay  members  led  to  a  broader  literary 
life,  and  they  cultivated  zealously  the  religious 
drama.  To  some  puy  the  cycle  of  Notre-Dame  is 
attributed.  In  the  Puy  d'Arras,  it  is  believed,  the 
comedies  of  Adam  de  la  Halle  were  played.  These 
literary  societies,  about  the  XVth  century,  turned 
to  other  lines  of  literary  activity,  to  Moralities, 
farces,  chansons,  chants,  royaux,  etc.,  the  Mys- 
tery falling  to  the  various  societies  of  confreres, 
of  which  the  Confreres  de  la  Passion,  of  Paris,  was 
the  most  famous." 

4.  The  development  of  the  drama  in  Germany  is 
not  here  considered  at  length,  since  the  limits  and 
scope  of  the  Introduction  would  not  allow  it.     The 
French  period  of  transition,  being  a  typical  one  and 
directly  influencing  the  English,  must  necessarily  be 
treated,  since  without  it,  the  English  Mysteries  would 
appear  isolated,  and  as  a  growth  peculiar  to  English 
soil.     The  reader  will  see  that  the  Anglo-Norman 
combine  did  much  to  establish  the  English  religious 
drama.     However,  Germany  is  rich  in  material,  and 
has  been  worked  up  by  authorities  mentioned  in  the 
bibliography. 

5.  Theophile  sells  his  soul  to  Satan,  and  finally 


136  NOTES 

repents  and  is  saved ;  the  play  thus  had  a  strong  theo- 
logical motive  for  those  who  witnessed  it.  An  anal- 
ogy is  traced  in  Goethe's  Faust. 

6.  Some  idea  of  the  length  of  the  French  Mys- 
teries may  be  obtained  from  the  following  list,  based 
upon  De  Julleville : 

Saint  Etienne — 346  verses  (only  a  fragment). 
Acts  of  Apostles — 61,908  verses. 
Old  Testament — 50,000  verses. 
New  Testament — 180,000  verses. 

7.  Professor  Edwin  R.  A.  Seligman  (Med.  Gilds 
of  Eng.)  thus  describes  the  duties  of  the  Gild  Mer- 
chant : 

"  It  was  instituted  solely  for  the  purpose  of  secur- 
ing exemptions  from  commercial  burdens  and 
enjoying  a  practical  monopoly  of  municipal 
trade.  It  possessed  property,  enjoyed  the  priv- 
ilege of  self-government,  often  formed  conven- 
tions with  the  gild  of  a  neighboring  town  to 
afford  reciprocal  rights  of  free  entry  and  exit, 
was  not  without  a  certain  jurisdiction,  although 
always  subordinate  to  the  court  leet,  and  often 
attained  sufficient  importance  to  become,  to  a 
limited  extent,  an  integral  part  of  the  civic  ad- 
ministration [through  its  members  belonging  to 
civic  organizations]." 

The  craft  gilds  represented  the  laboring  rather 
than  the  merchant  class.  The  members  of  a  par- 
ticular trade  united,  writes  Professor  Seligman, 
not  for  political  protection,  but  to  obtain  economic 
advantages  and  supervision  of  its  members ;  to  pre- 
vent individuals  from  gaining  unfair  advantage 


NOTES  137 

over  others.  It  was  not  developed  from  the  Gild 
Merchant;  it  rarely  opposed  the  Gild  Merchant.  A 
craftsman  could  become  a  member  of  this  higher 
body. 

8.  It  must  not  be  inferred  that  the  four  cycles 
here  mentioned  represent  the  extent  of  the  Mystery 
play  in  England.     In  the  Appendix  to  The  English 
Religious  Drama,  Katharine  Lee  Bates  gives  a  sum- 
mary of  the  plays,  showing  that  at  one  time  there 
existed  cycles  in  London,  Worcester,  and  Beverley; 
besides  the  four  principal  cycles  treated  of  in  the  In- 
troduction, there  are  also  extant  plays  from  Corn- 
wall, Dublin,  Newcastle-on-Tyne,  Norfolk,  Norwich, 
and  Digby.    See  also  E.  K.  Chambers'  The  Mediceval 
Stage,  vol.  ii.,  Appendix  X.,  p.  407  seq. 

9.  The  following  is  quoted  from  a  letter  written 
by  the  husband  of  Edith  Wynne  Matthison — Charles 
Rann  Kennedy,  Esquire — outlining  the  method  by 
which  his  wife  arrived  at  her  perfect  interpretation 
of  the  role  of  Everyman.     The  editor  wishes  to  ac- 
knowledge his  indebtedness  to  Mr.  Kennedy  for  the 
privilege  of  quoting  it,  and  for  his  interest  through- 
out the  preparation  of  this  edition : 

"  The  costumes,  scenery,  accessories,  and  the 
general  scheme  of  the  *  business '  of  Everyman 
were  solely  due  to  Mr.  William  Poel,  the  founder 
of  the  Elizabethan  Stage  Society  of  England,  but 
to  Mrs.  Kennedy  is  due  everything  that  translates 
the  part  into  a  living  reality — not  only  those  lit- 
tle subtleties  of  '  business '  and  stage-movement 
that  make  her  performance  a  model  of  dramatic 
technique,  but  also  that  deep  psychological  under- 


138  NOTES 

standing,  and  that  spiritual  exaltation  which  give 
it  unity,  consistence,  and  '  grip  ' !  In  the  purely 
psychological  analysis  of  the  play,  I  suppose  I 
must  say  that  she  was  partly  indebted  to  myself — 
to  four  lectures  that  I  delivered  in  London  at  Mr. 
Poel's  request,  when  he  first  produced  the  play 
there. 

"  The  main  points  in  this  analysis  took  regard 
(first),  of  the  increasingly  narrowing  rings  of  ob- 
jective influence  to  which  Everyman  makes  appeal 
for  company  on  his  long  journey:  commencing 
with  Fellowship — the  outermost  ring  of  all — he 
finally  appeals  to  Goods — of  all  the  objectives  (so 
to  speak)  of  the  soul,  the  term  nearest.  Then 
(secondly)  the  subjective  analysis  begins,  and  this 
also  is  worked  out  relentlessly,  until  finally  only 
the  naked  soul  itself  returns  to  its  God,  the  Good 
Deeds  following  after. 

"  Again,  another  thread  in  the  symbolism  of  the 
story  we  discovered  in  the  fact  that  Everyman,  up 
to  the  point  of  penance,  seems  to  be  merely  man  in 
the  single,  personal,  you-and-I  sense  of  the  word; 
but  after  that  point  he  takes  on  a  double  symbol- 
ism typifying  Christ,  the  '  All-man ' ;  following 
out  which  hint,  my  wife  converted  (mentally)  the 
great  prayer  into  the  agony  of  Gethsemane,  the 
procession  into  the  way  of  the  Cross,  the  failure 
of  the  soul's  outermost  functions  into  the  denial  of 
Peter  and  the  forsaking  of  the  disciples,  and  so 
forth.  Moreover,  I  should  like  to  say,  too,  that  it 
matters  little  whether  the  audience  directly  or  in- 
tellectually perceives  my  wife's  intention  in  these 


NOTES  139 

points ;  but  it  means  practically  everything  that  she 
should  perceive  it — else  the  true  unity  and  con- 
sistency of  the  part  were  impossible. 

"  We  understood  Knowledge  to  represent  prac- 
tically the  Church — the  Bride  of  Christ  in  Hertflf 
as  distinct  from  the  Church  in  function — as  sym- 
bolized through  Confession:  a  mediaeval  distinction 
which  I  think  is  worth  noticing;  Knowledge  here, 
of  course,  meaning  divine  knowledge  (the  Church 
being  the  depository  thereof)  as  distinct  from  Dis- 
cretion— the  mere  discerning,  separating,  intellec- 
tual faculty — who  fails  finally  with  the  rest.  .  .  . 

"  The  order  in  which  the  four  abstractions  fade 
away  is  interesting — and  my  wife  tries  to  convey 
their  import  by  her  acting :  Beauty  first — the  out- 
ermost expression  of  the  soul;  then  Strength, 
which  underlies  and  quickens  Beauty ;  next  Discre- 
tion— that  which,  among  other  functions,  directs 
Strength,  and  lastly  the  five  metaphysical  wits,  or 
what  one  may  call  the  instincts  of  Discretion.  Then 
the  soul  itself  is  left  free." 


NOTES   TO   EVERYMAN 

[I  have  to  acknowledge  my  indebtedness,  in  editing 
the  text  of  Everyman,  to  Mr.  Alfred  Pollard, 
whose  notes  in  his  edition  of  English  Miracle 
Plays  proved  of  great  value;  to  Hawkins,  who, 
in  his  The  Origin  of  the  English  Drama,  made 
some  text  changes  that  have  been  noted ;  and  to 
Hazlitt's  edition  of  Dodsley's  Old  English  Plays 
(vol.  i). 

May  I  add  further  my  appreciation  of  the  helpful 
suggestions  received  from  Professor  Brander 
Matthews,  of  Columbia  University ;  from  Dr. 
Horace  Howard  Furness,  editor  of  the  Variorum 
Shakespeare;  from  Rev.  Joseph  H.  McMahon, 
director  of  the  New  York  Cathedral  Library; 
and  from  Mr.  Ben  Greet,  whose  artistic  insight 
did  much  to  make  the  presentation  of  Everyman 
an  established  fact.  I  also  wish  to  acknowledge 
the  courtesies  that  have  been  extended  to  me  by 
the  Libraries  of  Columbia  and  Harvard  Uni- 
versities. 

I  here  desire  to  express  my  deep  appreciation  of  the 
exquisite  work  of  Mrs.  Charles  Rann  Kennedy 
(Edith  Wynne  Matthison)  in  her  re-creation  of 
the  role  of  Everyman.  It  was  marked  by  the 
rich  quality  of  her  reading  and  by  the  refined 
intensity  of  her  spiritual  passion.  Of  her  it 
might  be  said  that  in  voice  and  gesture  she 
would  have  found  the  rare,  keen  praise  of  Lamb. 

140 


NOTES  Ul 

In  editing  the  text,  I  have  considered  carefully  the 
corrections  made  by  the  different  editors  before 
me,  and  have  adopted  those  changes  I  thought 
consistent.  In  the  following  notes  I  have  called 
attention  to  important  text  differences  that  have 
peculiar  interest  in  themselves.  The  abbrevia- 
tions D.,  H.,  and  P.,  wherever  they  occur,  stand 
respectively  for  Dodsley,  Hawkins,  and  Pollard. 
The  present  editor  is  alone  responsible  for  de- 
cisions as  to  changes  in  readings  and  punctua- 
tions.] 

1.  A  cut  of  Everyman  and  Dethe  follows  this  in  the 

old  editions.  It  may  be  found  in  Hawkin's 
The  Origm  of  the  English  Drama,  and  in 
Dodsley's  Old  English  Plays.  In  Dodsley  are 
likewise  given  cuts  of  other  characters  in  the 
play. 

2.  The  Dramatis  Persona  are  given  in  the  order  in 

which  appearance  in  play  is  made. 

3.  The  Messenger  is  the  same  character  as  the  Doc- 

tour  of  the  epilogue. 

4.  Skot  reads  wonderous. 

5.  Although  the  capital  letter  J  was  not  introduced 

until  A.  D.  1630,  it  has  been  used  throughout 
the  text  to  avoid  confusion. 

6.  Certain  lines  would  lead  one  to  believe  Christ  the 

Speaker;  Hawkins  and  Percy  think  so.  But 
the  general  spirit  of  the  speech  indicates  the 
Father.  Dodsley  (Hazlitt)  thinks  the  Father 
is  meant. 

7.  ghostly:  vid.  ghoste:  spirit. 

8.  appayreth:  impaireth,  grow  worse  (D). 


142  NOTES 

9.  renne:  run. 

10.  heven  kynge:  heaven's  kmg  (D). 

11.  Pollard  gives  asketh. 

12.  Pollard  calls  attention  to  Lincoln  ed.,  which  in 

place  of  ado  writes  /  do;  Hawkins  follows 
Lincoln;  Dodsley  does  not. 

13.  reste:  arrest;  D.  prints  'rrest. 

14.  Dodsley  inserts  thou. 

15.  in  no  way  can  this  be. 

16.  seke:  sick. 

17.  Dodsley  inserts  for  editorially. 

18.  And  could  I  have  xil  years  respite. 

19.  The  touch  in  this  line  is  characteristically  medi- 

eval. 

20.  be  gete:  been  born,  or  been  begotten. 

21.  What  though  I  should  to  Fellowship  thereof 

speak. 

22.  //  any  have  wronged  you. 

23.  The  line  is  short,  whereas  account  would  seem 

consistent. 

24.  Adonay:  Hebrew  for  Lord  God. 

25.  sothe:  sooth. 

26.  The  text  might  read  Felawshyp;  Dodsley  edits 

fellowship). 

27.  To  bringe  me  forwarde  reads  to  escort  me  (P). 

28.  Pollard  reads  thou  for  you. 

29.  It  is  thought  by  some  that  this  should  be  en- 

dynge  to  rime  with  the  following  line. 

30.  With  this  line,  so  Dodsley  notes,  Pynson's  edi- 

tion begins  abruptly,  the  rest  of  the  text  being 
given  in  full. 

31.  Proverbial  expression. 


NOTES  143 

32.  In  this  line  the  rime  is  broken ;  should  there  be 

a  rime  ending?    Dodsley  adds  lo. 

33.  Dodsley  reads  do  not  spare. 

34.  With    additions,    this    line    is    interpreted    by 

Dodsley  as  follows :     We  will  live  and  die  to- 
gether. 

35.  Hawkins  would  transpose  the  rimes  holde  and 

bolde.    Context  would  not  justify  this  change. 

36.  Dodsley  reads  but. 

37.  on  understood. 

38.  Medieval  humor  largely  reached  through  bodily 

discomfort. 

39.  Skot,  according  to  Hawkins,  reads  /  will  not. 

Dodsley  does  not  agree. 

40.  Dodsley  reads  No  in  place  of  Now. 

41.  Dodsley  inserts  life,  to  which  the  text  points. 

42.  Proverbial  expression. 

43.  In  place  of  he  Dodsley  reads  it. 

44.  Why,  do  you  hasten? 

45.  Dodsley  reads  /  have  had  my  pleasure  in  thee. 

46.  Insertion  of  now  by  D. 

47.  Pollard  has  a  seemingly  arbitrary  way  of  spell- 

ing not;  sometimes  nat.     I  have  adopted  the 
uniform  not. 

48.  lesynge:  loosing,   releasing;   inevitably    (Far- 

mer). 

49.  Dodsley  reads  for  the  love  of  me. 

50.  Dodsley  reads  have  be. 

51.  or  has  the  force  of  before;  Dodsley  reads  ere. 

52.  wyte:  blame  (Sidgwick). 

53.  Dodsley  reads  Nay,  not  fro  this  world. 

54.  Pollard  and  Dodsley  both  insert  great. 


144  NOTES 

55.  Pollard  reads  And  you  do  by  me  the  journay 

•with  you  wyll  I  take.  He  further  interprets 
the  first  part  of  the  line  as  meaning:  If  you 
will  act  by  my  advice.  Dodsley  agrees  with 
above.  Hawkins  reads  what. 

56.  Of  has  the  force  of  for. 

57.  Instead  of  A  !  se,  Dodsley  reads  Behold. 

58.  Dodsley  reads  /  thank  thee  heartfully. 

59.  Dodsley  reads  I  pray  you  to  instruct  me  by  in- 

tellection (information,  knowledge). 

60.  Dodsley  simply  has  voider. 

61.  Dodsley  makes  a  consistent  change  to  pronoun 

7,  since  Knowlege  is  talking ;  I  leave  the  name, 
since  it  lends  the  tone  of  abstractness  that 
makes  the  play  a  Morality. 

62.  A  typical  line  of  the  Miracle  plays ;  as  likewise 

the  two  lines  following. 

63.  conduyter:  conductor. 

64.  Dodsley  prints  this  line:  prayers  of  thy  benig- 

nity. 

65.  Dodsley  reads  Acquittance. 

66.  Dodsley  says  Skot  reads  from  hell  and  from  the 

fire. 

67.  stounde:  hour,  season;  Farmer  reads  sub     sor- 

row, adversity. 

68.  In  place  of  or  elles,  Dodsley  reads  lest.     Fur- 

ther he  reads  Lest  before  God  it  be  unsweet. 

69.  Pollard  gives  them,  meaning  the  indications  in 

Everyman's  book.  In  Mr.  Greet's  production, 
Everyman's  "  rekenynge  boke  "  is  in  evidence. 

70.  I  follow  Pollard,  in  assigning  this  speech  to 

Knowlege.  Kynrede,  to  whom  H.  assigns  it, 
left  with  Cosyn  some  time  before. 


NOTES  145 

71.  incontynent:  incontinent. 

72.  A  note,  taken  from  Hawkins,  reads  as  follows: 

"  Five  wyttes,  i.  e.,  the  Five  Senses.  These 
are  frequently  exhibited  as  five  distinct  per- 
sonages upon  the  Spanish  stage  (see  Ricco- 
boni,  p.  98)  but  our  moralist  has  represented 
them  all  by  one  character.  In  Shakespeare's 
*  King  Lear,'  the  Madman  says :  *  Bless  thy 
five  wits ! '  meaning  the  Five  Senses."  (Percy) 
Dodsley  quotes  this  also.  Thomas  Percy, 
D.  D.  (Reliq.  Ancient  Eng.  Poetry),  writes: 
"...  It  may  be  observed  that  *  Everyman  ' 
is  a  grave,  solemn  piece,  not  without  some 
rude  attempts  to  excite  terror  and  pity,  and 
therefore  may  not  improperly  be  referred  to 
the  class  of  tragedy.  It  is  remarkable  that  in 
this  old  simple  drama  the  fable  is  conducted 
upon  the  strictest  model  of  the  Greek  trag- 
edy. The  action  is  simply  one,  the  time  of 
action  is  that  of  the  performance,  the  scene  is 
never  changed,  nor  the  stage  ever  empty. 
Everyman,  the  hero  of  the  piece,  after  his 
first  appearance,  never  withdraws,  except 
when  he  goes  out  to  receive  the  sacraments, 
which  could  not  well  be  exhibited  in  public, 
and  during  his  absence  Knowledge  descants 
on  the  excellence  and  power  of  the  priest- 
hood, somewhat  after  the  manner  of  the 
Greek  chorus.  And,  indeed,  except  in  the 
circumstance  of  Everyman's  expiring  on  the 
stage,  the  '  Samson  Agonistes '  of  Milton 
is  hardly  formed  on  a  severer  plan." 


146  NOTES 

73.  Dodsley  reads  To  help  and  comfort  him. 

74.  This  note  is  given  by  Dodsley :    "  This  portion 

has  been  collated  with  the  Douce  fragment 
printed  by  Pynson  (Shakespeare  Society 
Papers,  III,  149),  as  well  as  with  the  other 
impression  by  Pynson  in  the  British 
Museum." 

75.  Dodsley  reads  /  it  bequeath  to  be  returned. 

There  following  would  indicate  where. 

76.  oyntement:  unction  (D). 

77.  Dodsley  reads  take. 

78.  Thou   refers   to  preest;  Dodsley   gives    those* 

which  is  not  consistent.  The  context  could 
justify  the  use  of  pronoun  he  in  lines  follow- 
ing, instead  of  the  direct  address  as  given  in 
Hawkins.  Some  editions  give  He. 

79.  Skot  gives  your;  so  does  H.    This  does  not  seem 

to  be  consistent,  so  I  leave  our. 

80.  Dodsley  reads  Now  Jesus  Christ  be  your  alder 

speed.    Hawkins  omits  word  Christ. 

81.  Skot  gives  dyde.     Pollard  refers  to  /.  Mace. 

iii.  3,  4. 

82.  Skot  reads  And  tourne  to  erth  and  there  to 

slepe.  This  line  is  assigned  to  Beaute  by 
Dodsley,  and  the  assignments  of  lines  follow- 
ing are  generally  mixed.  I  have  followed  the 
sense  of  the  text. 

83.  Instead  of  ye  consume  Pollard  reads  we  con- 

sume and  interprets  more  and  lesse  as  mean- 
ing great  people  and  little. 

84*.     Take,  meaning  doff. 

85.     Dodsley  reads  Beaute  doth  fast  away  hie. 


NOTES  U7 

86.  Pynson  and  Dodsley  both  read  Strength,  tary,  I 

pray  you. 

87.  The  line  as  it  stands  is  Skot's;  Pollard  and 

Dodsley  suggest  for  sake  of  rime  the  follow- 
ing for  the  proverbial  expression :  Yet  prom- 
yse  is  dette,  this  ye  well  wot. 

88.  Pynson  and  Dodsley  read  Is  greatly  deceived. 

89.  For  rime,  Pynson  and  Dodsley  read  Stedfast  to 

be;  Pollard  also. 

90.  Dodsley  reads  Everyman  diet. 

91.  Dodsley  makes  this  a  special  reference  to  Every- 

man. 

92.  Dodsley  reads  This  memory  all  men. 

93.  of  has  the  force  of  for  what  it  is  worth. 

94.  Dodsley  edits:  (them  he)  there  doth  take. 

95.  Two  interesting  imprints  follow  the  different 

manuscripts,  and  read: 

Imprynted  at  London  in  Poules  chyrche  yarde 

by  me  John  Skot. 
Imprynted  at  London  in  Flete  Strete  1 1  by  me 

Rycharde  Pynson  ||  prynter  to  the  kynges 

moost  noble  grace. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

[The  following  bibliography  is  not  intended  to  be 
exhaustive ;  it  gives  a  few  works  covering  the  differ- 
ent periods  surveyed  in  the  Introduction.  In  many 
of  the  books  mentioned  there  are  to  be  found  .more 
comprehensive  bibliographies  for  the  student  who 
wishes  to  continue  the  subject  further.] 

THE    CHURCH 

ALT,  HEINRICH — 

Theatre  und  Kirche  in  Ihrem  Gegenseitigen  Ver- 
haltniss  Historisch  Dargestellt.     (Berlin,  1846) 

BlBLIOTHEaiTE  DE  I/lSCOLE  DBS   CHARTES 

Le  Clerge  Normand  au  XIIP  Siecle.     (1846-7, 

p.  479) 
FISHER,  GEORGE  PARK — 

History  of  the  Christian  Church.  (N.  Y.,  1887) 
LECOY  DE  LA  MARCHE,  RICHARD  ALBERT — 

La  Chaire  Fran9aise  au  Moyen  Age,  speciale- 

ment  au  XIIP   Siecle  d'apres   les   Manuscrits 

Contemporains.     (Paris,  1886) 
MILMAN,  HENRY  HART — 

History  of  Christianity  [bk.  iv;  vol.  iii;  ch.  i.]. 

(London,  1863) 
SCHAFF,  PHILIP — 

History  of  the  Christian  Church,  from  the  Birth 

of  Christ  to  the  Reign  of  Constantine.     (N.  Y., 

1859) 

148 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  149 

FRENCH    PERIOD. 

CLEDAT,  LEON — 

Rutebeuf    [Les    Grands    Ecrivains    Francais]. 
(Paris,  1898) 

COUSSEMAKER,  CHARLES  EDMOND   HENRI 

L'Art  Harmonique  aux  XIP  et  XIIP  Siecles. 

(Paris,  1865) 

Drames  Liturgiques  du  Moyen  Age.  (Ren- 

nes,  1860) 
Du  MERIL,  ^DELSTAND  PONTAS — 

Les    Origines    Latines    du    Theatre    Moderne. 

(Paris,  1897) 
GAUTIER,  LEON — 

Histoire  de  la  Poesie  Liturgique  au  Moyen  Age : 

Les  Tropes.     (Paris,  1886) 
JOURNAL  DES  SAVANTS — 

Magnin,  C. — vide  vols.  for  1860,  1861. 

JULLEVILLE,  LOUIS  PETIT  DE 

A 

Histoire  du  Theatre  en  France  au  Moyen  Age: 

Les  Mysteres.     [2  vols.]       (Paris,  1880) 

Histoire  de  la  Langue  et  de  la  Litterature 

Fran9aise    des    Origines    a    1900.     [7    vols.] 

(Paris,  1896-99) 
LA  RUE,  M.  L'ABBE  DE — 

Essais  Historiques  sur  les  Bardes,  les  Jongleurs, 

et  les  Trouveres.     (Caen,  1834) 
LAUN,  HENRI  VAN — 

History  of  French  Literature.  [3  vols]  (N.  Y., 

1876) 
LAVISSE,  ERNEST,  ET  RAMBAUD,  A.  N. — 

Histoire  Generale  du  IV*  Siecle  a  Nos  Jour. 

[vol.  ii]  (Paris,  1893  seq.) 


150  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

LEROY,  JEAN  BAPTISTE  ONESIME — 

Etudes  sur  les  Mysteres.     (Paris,  1837) 

LITTRE,  MAXIMILIEN  PAUL  EMILE — 

Etudes  sur  les  Barbares  et  le  Moyen  Age. 
(Paris,  1861) 

LtTCHAIRE,    ACHILLE 

Manuel  des  Institutions  Fra^aises,  Periode  des 
Capetiens  Directs.     (Paris,  1892) 
MAGNIN,  CHARLES — 

Les  Origines  du  Theatre  Antique  et  du  Theatre 
Moderne;  ou,  Histoire  du  Genie  Dramatique 
depuis  le  Ier  jusqu'au  XVF  Siecle.  (Paris,  1868) 
Vide  Journal  des  Savants. 

MONMERQUE  ET  MlCHEL 

Theatre  Fra^ais   au  Moyen   Age   [XP-XIV8 

siecle.]     (Paris,  1879) 
PARIS,  GASTON  BRUNO  PAULIN — 

La  Litterature  Fran9aise  au  Moyen  Age.   [XP  - 

XIV6  siecles.]     (Paris,  1888) 
RAYNAUD,  GASTON — 

Recueil  de  Motets  Fran9ais  des  XIIe  et  XIIP 

Siecles.     [Vol.  ii] 

ROY,  13MILE 

Etudes  sur  le  Theatre  Francais  du  XIVe  et  du 
XV  Siecles  ....  Les  Miracles  de  Notre- 
Dame.  (Paris,  1902)  [This  was  followed  by 
a  second  study,  "  Le  Jour  du  Jugement."  Paris, 
1902.] 

Le  Jour  du  Jugement:  Mystere  Francais 

sur  le  Grand  Schisme.  [6tude  sur  le  Theatre 
Fran9ais  au  XIVe  siecle.]  (Paris,  1902) 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  151 

ROY,  EMILE — 

Les  Mysteres  de  la  Passion  en  France  du  XIV* 
au  XVP  Siecle  (Revue  Bourguignonne-Uni- 
versite  de  Dijon.  1903,  vol.  13,  nos.  3-4)  [In 
the  second  part,  vol.  14,  1904,  nos.  3-4,  the  au- 
thor considers  "  La  Theologie  et  le  Developpe- 
ment  du  Mystere  de  la  Passion  au  XV*  siecle.] 

SEPET,  MARIUS  CYRILLE  ALPHONSE — 

Le  Drame  Chretien  au  Moyen  Age.  (Paris, 
1878) 

Les  Prophetes  du  Christ.     I^tude  sur  les 

Origines  du  Theatre  au  Moyen  Age.  (vide  Bib- 
liotheque  de  1'ecole  des  Chartes.  Series  6,  vols. 
iii,  iv,— 1867, 1868) 

Les  Plus  Anciens  Drames  en  Langue  Fran- 

9aise.     (Paris,  1894) 

SYMMES,  H.  S. — 

Les  Debuts  de  la  Critique  Dramatique  en  Angle- 
terre.  (1893) 

[To  quote  Professor  Schelling :  "  .  .  .  val- 
uable material  concerning  the  attitude  of  the 
clergy  towards  the  drama."] 

TIVIER,  HENRI — 

Histoire  de  la  Litterature  Dramatique  en  France 
depuis  ses  Origines  jusqu'au  Cid.  (Paris,  1873) 

VITRY,  JACQUES  DE — 

Exempla,  or  Illustrative  Stories  from  the  Ser- 
moneg  Vulgares.  (Folk  Lore  Soc.  Pub. — ed. 
Crane.) 

WALLON,  HENRI  ALEXANDRE — 

Saint  Louis  et  Son  Temps.     (Paris,  1876) 


152  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

WlLMOTTE,  M. 

La  Naissance  de  1'Element  Comique  dans  le 
Theatre  Religieux.  (In  Congres  Internationales 
d'histoire  comparee,  1900.  Annales  interna- 
tionales  d'histoire,  1901,  vol.  vi,  pp.  49-69) 

Les  Origines  du  Drame  Liturgique.  (Acad. 

Roy.  de  Belg.  Bulletin  de  la  classe  des  lettres, 
pp.  715-748,  Bruxelles,  1901) 

GERMAN    PERIOD. 

BRANDL,  A. — 

Quellen  des  weltlichen  Dramas  in  England  vor 
Shakespeare.  [Quellen  und  Forschungen,  Ixxx] 
(1898) 

CEEIZENACH,  WILHELM — 

Geschichte  des  neueren  Dramas  (Halle  A.  S. 
verlag  von  Max  Niemeyer)  [vol.  i — Mittelalter 
und  Friihrenaissance  (1893)  ;  vol.  ii — Renais- 
sance und  Reformation  (1901)  ;  vol  iii — Renais- 
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FRANCKE,  KTTNO — 

History  of  German  Literature  as  Determined  by 
Social  Forces.  (N.  Y.,  1901) 

FRONING,  RICHARD — • 

Das  Drama  des  Mittelalters.  Erster  Teil.  Die 
Lateinischen  Osterfeiern  in  Deutschland.  Os- 
terspiele;  Passionspiele.  (Stuttgart,  1891) 

KLEIN,  J.  L. — 

Geschichte  des  Dramas.  [13  vols.]  (Leipzig, 
1865-76.)  [Vol.  ii — Das  Drama  der  Rdmer; 
vol.  iii — Das  aussereuropaische  Drama  und  die 
latein.  Schauspiele  n.  Chr.  bis  Ende  d.  X, 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  153 

Jahrhunderts ;    vols.    xii,    xiii — Das    Englische 
Drama.] 
LANGE,  CARL — 

Die  Lateinischen  Osterfeiern:  Untersuchungen 
iiber  den  Ursprung  und  die  Entwickelung  der 
Liturgisch  -  dramatischen  Auferstehnngsfeier. 
(Munchen,  1887) 

MlLCHSACK,  GUSTAV 

Die  Oster-  und  Passionspiele :  [vol.  i.]  Die  Lat- 
einischen Osterfeiern.  (Wolfenbiittel,  1880) 

MONE,  FEANZ  JOSEPH — 

Schauspiele  des  Mittelalters.  [2  Bde.]  (Karls- 
ruhe, 1846) 

PEOLSS,  KAEL  ROBEET — 

Geschichte  des  Neueren  Dramas.  [3  vols.] 
(Leipzig,  1880,  1881,  1883) 

WILMOTTE,  MAUEICE — 

Les  Passions  Allemandes  du  Rhin,  dans  leur 
Rapport  avec  1'Ancien  Theatre  Fra^ais. 
[Acad.  Roy.  de  Belgique,  Mem.  vol.  Iv,  no.  10] 
(Brussels,  1896-98) 

WlETH,  LUDWIG 

Die  Oster-  und  Passionspiele  bis  zum  XVI  Jahr- 
hundert  Beitrage  zur  Geschichte  des  Deutschen 
Dramas. 


ENGLISH  PERIOD. 

ASHLEY,  WILLIAM  JAMES — 

Introduction  to  English  Economic  History  and 
Theory.     (London,  1888-93) 


154  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Beginnings  of  Town  Life  in  the  Middle 

Ages.  (Quarterly  Journal  of  Economics,  1896, 
vol.  x,  p.  359) 

BATES,  KATHARINE  LEE — 

The  English  Religious  Drama.     (N.  Y.,  1893) 

English  Drama :  A  Working  Basis.     (Wel- 

lesley  College,  1896. — Bibliography) 

BATESON,  MARY — 

Mediaeval  England:  English  Feudal  Society 
from  the  Norman  Conquest  to  the  middle  of  the 
Fourteenth  Century.  [The  Story  of  the  Na- 
tions series.]  (Putnam,  1904) 
The  Mediaeval  Stage.  (Scottish  Histori- 
cal Review,  vol.  i,  pp.  399-406.  Glasgow,  July, 
1904) 

The  Charters  of  the  Borough  of  Cam- 
bridge [ed.  F.  W.  Maitland  and  Mary  Bate- 
son.].  (Cambridge,  1901) 

CHAMBERS,  E.  K. — 

The  Mediaeval  Stage.  [2  vols.]  (Oxford,  1903.) 
[This  is  one  of  the  most  exhaustive  treatments 
of  the  subject  published  in  English.  List  of 
Authorities,  vol.  i,  pp.  xiii-xlii.  Complete  rec- 
ords and  lists  in  Appendices,  vol.  ii,  pp.  229- 
461] 

COLLIER,  JOHN  PAYNE — 

History  of  English  Dramatic  Poetry  to  the 
Time  of  Shakespeare.  (London,  1831) 

DAVIDSON,  CHARLES — 

Studies  in  the  English  Mystery  Plays.  (Yale 
University,  1892) 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  155 

FLEAY,  F.  G. — 

A  Chronicle  History  of  the  London  Stage,  1559- 
1642.  (1890) 

GAYLEY,  CHARLES  MILLS — 

The  Star  of  Bethlehem :  A  Miracle  Play  of  the 
Nativity,  reconstructed  from  the  Towneley  and 
other  old  English  Cycles  (of  the  XIHth,  XlVth, 
and  XVth  Centuries),  and  Supplemented  and 
Adapted  to  Modern  Conditions,  as  Composed 
for  Mr.  Ben  Greet,  and  Presented  by  his  Com- 
pany. (Fox,  Duffield,  1904)  [With  an  intro- 
duction and  wood-cuts;  in  the  same  form  as 
same  publisher's  modernized  version  of  "  Every- 
man."] 

Representative  English  Comedies.     (Mac- 

millan,  1903.)  [Introductory  Essay:  An  His- 
torical View  of  the  Beginnings  of  English 
Comedy,  pp.  xiii-xcii.] 

Plays  of  Our  Forefathers :  and  some  of 

the  traditions  upon  which  they  were  founded. 
(Duffield,  1907)  [A  more  popular  treatment 
than  that  by  Chambers ;  excellent  illustrations.] 

The  Earlier  Miracle  Plays  in  England. 

[The  International  Quarterly,  vol.  x,  Oct.,  1904, 
pp.  108-129] 

The   Later   Miracle    Plays    of   England. 

[The  International  Quarterly,  vol.  xii,  Oct., 
1905,  pp.  67-88] 

GOEDEKE,  KARL — 

Everyman,  Homulus,  und  Hekastus.  (Hanover, 
1865.)  [Containing  text] 


156  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

GEOSS,  CHAELES — 

The  Gild  Merchant.     (Oxford,  1890) 

HIBBEET,  FEANCIS  ALDAN — 

Influence  and  Development  of  English  Gilds,  as 
Illustrated  by  the  History  of  the  Craft  Gilds  of 
Shrewsbury.  (Cambridge,  Eng.,  1891) 

HONE,  W.— 

Ancient  Mysteries  described,  especially  the  Eng- 
lish Miracle  Plays  founded  on  Apocryphal  New 
Testament  Story.  (London,  1823) 

JUSSEEAND,  J.   J. 

Le  Theatre  en  Angleterre  depuis  la  Conquete 
jusqu'aux  Predecesseurs  Immediats  de  Shake- 
speare. (Paris,  1881.)  [See  Chap,  ii — Les 
Mysteres;  Chap,  iii — Les  Moralites] 

A  Note  on  Pageants  and  '  Scaffolds  Hye.' 

[xxiii — In  "  An  English  Miscellany  presented 
to  Dr.  Furnivall."  Oxford,  1901] 

A  Literary  History  of  the  English  People. 

[2  vols.  issued;  still  in  course  of  publication. 
Vol.  i,  chap,  vi,  The  Theatre:  Origins — Civil 
Sources ;  Religious  Sources ;  Literary  and  His- 
torical value  of  Mysteries ;  Decay  of  the 
Mediaeval  Stage.]  (Putnam,  1895,  1896)  See 
also  the  same  author's  "  English  Wayfaring 
life  in  the  Middle  Ages." 

KLEIN,  DAVID — 

A  Contribution  to  a  Bibliography  of  the  Mediae- 
val Drama.  {Mod.  Lang.  Notes,  xx,  1905, 
Nov.,  pp.  202-205) 

LANIEE,  SIDNEY — 

Shakspere    and    His    Forerunners:    Studies    in 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  157 

Elizabethan  Poetry  and  Its  Development  from 
Early  English.  [2  vols.]  (Doubleday,  Page, 
1902.)  [Sumptuous  in  form  and  illustration] 

MANLY,  J.  M. — 

Specimens  of  the  Pre-Shaksperean  Drama. 
[With  introduction,  notes,  and  glossary.] 
(3  vols,  1897) 

MANTZIUS,  KARL — 

A  History  of  Theatrical  Art  in  Ancient  and 
Modern  Times.  [Translated  by  Louise  von 
Cossel;  vide  Greek  Theatre,  Roman  Theatre, 
Ecclesiastical  Plays,  Secular  Plays.  A  four  vol- 
ume work  of  value,  with  bibliographies.]  (Lon- 
don, 1903,  1904,  1905) 

MATTHEWS,  BRANDER — 

The  Development  of  the  Drama.  (Scribner, 
1903.)  [The  chapter  on  "The  Mediaeval 
Drama  "  appeared  originally  in  Mod.  PhiloL, 
June,  1903.] 

MEYER,  DR.  HEINRICH — 

The  Infancy  of  the  English  Drama.  (Hagen, 
1873) 

MOORE,  E.  HAMILTON — 

English  Miracle  Plays  and  Moralities.  (Lon- 
don, 1907) 

MORLEY,  HENRY — 

English  Writers,  [vols,  ii,  iii  (Hilarius),  iv.] 
(London,  1899) 

POLLARD,  ALFRED  W. — 

English  Miracle  Plays,  Moralities,  and  Inter- 
ludes [Introduction  and  Notes].  (Clarendon 
Press,  1898) 


158  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

SELIGMAN,  EDWIN  R.  A. — 

Mediaeval  Guilds  of  England.  (Am.  Econ. 
Assoc.  Pub.,  1887) 

SHARP,  THOMAS — 

Dissertation  on  the  Pageants  or  Dramatic  Mys- 
teries Anciently  Performed  at  Coventry.  (Cov- 
entry, 1825) 

SCHELLING,  FELIX  E. — 

Elizabethan  Drama.  [2  vols.]  (Houghton, 
Mifflin,  1908)  [Contains  chapters  on  the  Old 
Sacred  Drama,  the  Morality,  and  the  Earlier 
Secular  Plays;  also  a  concise  bibliographical 
chapter  which  may  be  used  as  a  working  basis] 

The  English  Chronicle  Play :  A  Study  in 

the  Popular  Historical  Literature  Environing 
Shakespeare.  (Macmillan,  1902)  [This  refer- 
ence is  given,  since  the  Chronicle  Play,  as  a 
type,  like  the  Morality  as  a  type,  brings  the  de- 
velopment continuously  from  the  Trope  to  the 
Elizabethan  drama.] 

SMITH,  G.  GREGORY — 

The  Transition  Period.  (Edinburgh,  1900) 
[Chap,  vii — Dramatic  Origins:  The  Drama  in 
France;  Chap,  viii — The  Drama  in  England 
and  in  Scotland ;  Chap,  ix — The  Drama  in  Ger- 
many.] 

SMITH,  TOULMIN — 

English  Gilds :  The  Original  Ordinances.  (Lon- 
don, 1870)  [This  is  a  collection  of  significant 
documents.] 

STODDARD,  FRANCIS  H.-»— 

References  for  Students  of  Miracle  Plays  and 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  159 

Mysteries.  (University  of  California.  Library 
Bulletin.  No.  8,  1887) 

SYMONDS,  JOHN  ADDINGTON — 

Shakespere's  Predecessors  in  the  English 
Drama.  (London,  1884) 

TEN  BRINK,  BERNHARD — 

Geschichte  der  Englischen  Literatur.  [vol.  ii. ; 
tr.,  William  Clarke  Robinson.]  (N.  Y.,  1889) 

TISDEL,  FREDERICK  MONROE — 

The  Influence  of  Popular  Customs  on  the  Mys- 
tery Plays.  (Jour.  Eng.  and  German  Phttol., 
vol.  v,  no.  3,  pp.  323-340.)  [Containing  foot- 
notes of  bibliographical  value.] 
Comedy  in  the  Mystery  Plays  of  Eng- 
land. [Harvard  University  Thesis,  1906] 

WARD,  A.  W. — 

History  of  English  Dramatic  Literature  to  the 
Death  of  Queen  Anne.  (London,  1899) 

WRIGHT,  THOMAS — 

Early  Mysteries,  and  other  Latin  Poems  of  the 
Twelfth  and  Thirteenth  Centuries.  (London, 
1838)  [With  an  Introduction.] 

EDITIONS  OF  PLAYS. 

ADAM.  Palustre,  L. — Adam,  Mystere  du  XII*  Sie- 
cle.  (Paris,  1877) 

CASTELL  OF  PERSEVERANCE.  Pollard,  A.  W. — Eng- 
lish Miracle  Plays. 

CHESTER  MYSTERIES.  Wright,  Thomas — [ed.] 
(Shakespeare  Society.  Issued  in  1853  as  vol.  i. 
of  Supplement  to  Dodsley's  Old  Plays.) 


160  BIBLIOGRAPHY 

COVENTRY  CYCLE.  Halliwell-Phillips,  J.  O. — [ed.] 
Ludus  Coventrise.  (Shakespeare  Society,  1841) 
EVERYMAN.  Farmer,  John  S. — Six  Anonymous 
Plays.  First  Series  (c.  1510-1537)  Everyman 
[pp.  89-122,  including  woodcuts  and  notes]. 
(London:  Printed  privately  for  subscribers  by 
the  Early  English  Drama  Society,  1905 ;  also 
reproduced  separately  in  "  The  Museum  Dra- 
matists, No.  3.") 

Greg,  W.  W. — (Reprint  from  ed.  by  John 
Skot,    preserved    at    Britwell     Court.) 
[Materialien  zur  kunde  des  alteren  Eng- 
lischen  Dramas. — Leipzig,  1904] 
Hawkins,    Thomas — Origin    of   the   Eng- 
lish Drama,     [vol.  i]     (Oxford,  1773) 
Hazlitt's  Dodsley.  [vol.  i]  (London,  1874) 

Logeman,  H. Elckerlyc — Everyman,  de 

Vraag  naar  de  prioriteit  opnieuw  onder- 
zocht.  (Universite  de  Gand,  Recueil  de 
travaux,  28  fascicule.)  Gand.  Vuylsteke, 
1902. 

Museum     Dramatists.     (Published     for 
Early    English   Drama    Society.      Lon- 
don, 1904) 
Pollard,  A.  W. — English  Miracle  Plays. 

Fifteenth  Century  Prose  and  Verse. 

[An  English  Garner.  Everyman,  pp. 
277-304.]  (Westminster,  1903) 
Roersch,  A.  —  Elckerlijc  —  Everyman — 
Homulus — Hekastus.  (Archiv.  fur  das 
Studium  der  Neueren  Sprachen  und 
Literaturen,  cxiii,  1904,  pp.  13-16) 


BIBLIOGRAPHY  161 

Sidgwick,  F. — Reprint.     (London,  1902) 
HROTSVITHA,  THEATRE  DE — 

Religieuse  Allemande  du  X*  Siecle  (en  Francais) 
avec  le  Texte  Latin  Revu  sur  le  Manuscrit  de 
Munich.  (Introduction  et  Notes.)  Charles 
Magnin.  [Paris,  1845] 

INTERLUDE  OF  YOUTH.     Hazlitt's  Dodsley.  [vol.  ii] 
LUSTY  JUVENTUS.    Hazlett's  Dodsley.     [vol.  ii] 
MARY  MAGDALENE.    Dr.  Furnivall's  ed.    Digby  Mys- 
teries. 

Pollard,  A.  W. — English  Miracle  Plays. 
MIRACLES  DE  NOTRE-DAME.    MS.  2  vols.    Bibl.  Nat. 

819,  820. 

PROPHETES  DU  CHRIST.     Drama  found  in  MS.  Bibl. 
Nat.  Fonds  Latin,  1139.    Consult  also: 
Coussemaker,  A. — Drames  Liturgiques.      [No. 

2,  p.  11] 

Magnin. — Journal    des    Savants.      (Feb., 
1846) 

Du  Meril. — Origines  Latines.     [p.  179] 
RESURRECTION,  La.     Monmerque  et  Michel. — Thea- 
tre   Fran9ais    au    Moyen    Age.     [pp.    10-20] 

(Paris,  1879) 
ST.  NICHOLAS.    Monmerque  et  Michel. — Theatre  Fr. 

au  Moyen  Age.     [pp.  158-207] 
THEOPHILE.     Monmerque  et  Michel. — Theatre  Fr., 

etc.     [pp.  136-156] 
TOWNELEY  MYSTERIES.  Pollard,  A.  W.  [ed.]  [Early 

English  Text  Society.]     (London,  1897) 
YORK    MYSTERIES.     Smith,    Lucy    Toulmin.     [ed.] 

[Oxford,  Clarendon  Press,  1885] 


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